


Humanity of the Broken

by silmarilz1701



Series: A Tale of Two Heritages [2]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Addiction to Cigarettes, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate History, And rock bottom keeps getting lower, Battle of the Bulge 1944-1945, Being drunk is not consent, But they won't get that, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, Episode: s01e07 The Breaking Point, Episode: s01e08 The Last Patrol, Episode: s01e09 Why We Fight, Episode: s01e10 Points, Everybody hits rock bottom, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Forgiveness, Found Family, French Resistance, Grief/Mourning, Holocaust, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Male-Female Friendship, Pain, Past Sexual Assault, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ron and Alice are a completely platonic military power couple, They deserve long and happy lives in peace, This covers all the most depressing episodes so I'm sorry, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, War is hell, i promise there is a happy ending, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 55
Words: 139,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701
Summary: War never changes, but who you fight alongside does.In 1942, Alice Klein left the French Maquis to assist America's paratrooper corps. She lost everything to the Nazis when she left: her family, her country, and her friends. But she gained Easy Company.Alice and the rest of Easy Company have been through six long months of combat already. They've seen friends die. But they're about to enter the toughest months yet. December in Bastogne brings trench foot, artillery barrages, and snipers. It brings frostbite and stupid mistakes. And above all, D-Day + 193 brings death.As the war drags on, Alice must face hard truths about what it means to be a German Jew. Events from 1942 come to light which force her to rethink everything she knew about her family's fate. As it turned out, Germans were the first victims of the Nazi party.Thankfully, Alice doesn't have to face it alone. While some faces disappear forever, others become closer than she could have ever imagined. Because though war never changes, who you fight it with does.
Relationships: Lewis Nixon/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Tale of Two Heritages [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572553
Comments: 100
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated:
> 
> To the real men of Easy Company, the heroes of the 506th, and all World War Two veterans. May we never forget their endless sacrifices. They were heroes, even if they would never admit to it.
> 
> To Natalya Kovshova, Mariya Polivanova, Virginia Hall, Simone Segouin, Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya, Freddie Oversteegan, Truus Oversteegan, Hannie Schaft, Małka Zdrojewicz, Bluma Wyszogrodzka, Rachela Wyszogrodzka, Zinaida Portnova, and to all the "women of no importance" in World War Two, who helped win back peace for their countries and for the world. May they rest knowing their sacrifices won the world freedom.
> 
> And to my Uncle Mike, a Staff Sergeant radio op aboard the C-47s on D-Day, without whose bravery and skill the Paratroopers could not have been taken to Normandy.
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> This story is based on the HBO series Band of Brothers. While the characters portrayed are historically present, there are discrepancies between the show and the real Easy Company. When possible, I will be informing the HBO characters with the biographies of the real men who served. However in any case where history and show contradict, the show canon will take precedence.
> 
> While research is being done by the author, nothing written is claimed to be one hundred percent historically or medically accurate. Women were not fighters for the USA in WWII, but the French Underground and the Soviet Partisans had women in combat situations. This story is inspired by them, and the women spies of WWII employed by many nations.

**December 17, 1944**

  
_Camp de Châlons, Mourmelon-le-Grand, France_

* * *

The list of things that Alice wouldn’t give up in order to acquire warmer clothes kept shrinking by the hour. She’d gladly trade her civilian dress for a hat, or her Mary Janes for gloves. She’d even give up a carton of smokes for more socks.

Well, maybe not that. Not yet, at least.

The sky had clouded over sometime around noon. For maybe the first time ever, Alice found herself wishing for Camp Toccoa. Camp Toccoa had been warm, sometimes too warm. But Mourmelon-le-Grand in mid December had biting wind and a fierce cold that found Alice no matter how many layers of summer clothing she covered herself with. 

The clouds had started raining sometime around dinner. The rain came more as a mist than anything else, not enough to drive the companies indoors, but enough to make everyone totally and completely miserable. Why she had decided it necessary to watch Easy Company from outside, Alice didn’t know. Some twisted sense of solidarity, perhaps.

At least she had found an overhang for some small amount of shelter. Why Lieutenant Dike had decided to make Easy Company fall into formation before letting them eat, she didn’t know. She had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the fact that she’d managed to acquire passes for three of his NCOs without asking his permission.

As another gust of wind threw frozen droplets of rain into her bare cheeks, Alice groaned. This was not the way to make friends with the enlisted, Foxhole Norman. Even Babe Heffron, usually fairly mild tempered unless egged on by fellow Philly, Bill, had a gaze that could’ve killed Dike. 

The one bit of fun that was to be had by standing outside in the freezing rain waiting for Easy Company was in fact watching the various expressions of her friends. Bill Guarnere’s jaw had clenched so hard, it became a right angle. She also noticed him favoring his right leg. The weather could not have been helping his recovery. Alice added this to the list of grievances she held against Norman Dike.

Skip Muck’s expression had become so straight-faced, it almost made her laugh. She’d known him long enough to be able to predict the snarky internal dialogue he likely had running through his mind. He and George had been the driving force behind spreading the moniker Foxhole Norman. His disdain for the man was hardly unknown.

And perhaps her favorite of all, George Luz’s look of pure, unadulterated disdain, which he clearly only half tried to hide, touched something in her soul. She knew that look. That was the look they’d all had for Sobel by the time they’d gotten to Aldbourne: less anger, more complete and utter disgust. Poor George had to stand in the biting, wet cold while hauling around a forty pound radio. If anyone had a right to be furious, it was him.

With the sun almost gone, the cold somehow only increased. When Norman Dike dismissed the men to the Mess Hall and then recreation, the anger that had been pent up for self preservation exploded in groans and grumbles. She smirked to herself. Dashing out of the overhang, Alice fell in amongst the men.

“If you’re going to plan another mutiny, count me out again,” Alice said quietly. 

Johnny, Lip, and Bill, all near her, looked at her in surprise. But when she started smiling, they all joined in to various degrees. As Lipton shook his head at her, she snickered.

“I’m not saying I’d disagree. But it already worked once, so I wouldn’t count on it again.” She shrugged. It took a bit of effort to keep up with the disgruntled soldiers of Easy Company. “Two in a row is a bit of long shot-”

Johnny sent her a glare. Alice shut her mouth, but she couldn’t quite suppress her grin. When they finally set foot into the mess hall and out of the freezing rain, the general grumbling began to subside. They soon had warm food and dry seats.

Alice ended up at the edge of a table, across from her, Skip Muck and to her left, Malarkey. Where Alex had gone off to, neither of them knew, but that hardly stopped them. A good solid five minutes of Skip muttering about Norman Dike passed.

“Hey boys, what’re you doing?” Lipton came over and stood at the end. Then he glanced at Alice. “And lady.”

“Singin’ Dike’s praises, as usual, Lip,” Skip said.

Alice nearly choked on her pasta at his comment. The noise caused Malarkey, Skip, and Lip to all look at her. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. 

“You alright?” asked Lip, smiling.

She shook her head, suppressing a laugh. “Did not expect that. Sorry.”

“I hope you choke on your food,” Malarkey teased. “That’s what you get for taking the others to Paris and not us.”

“Hey!”

“Malark, shut yer yap,” Bill said. He scooted in on the man’s right, plate full of pasta. “Just because she likes us more don’t give you an excuse to bother her.”

Alice looked at him in exasperation. “Hey!” 

They all started snickering into their food. The meal passed fairly quickly, as the Third Battalion eagerly awaited their turn. After returning her plate and utensils, she strolled out of the Mess Hall between Malakey and Skip. 

“Hey, Alice, think you could lend me some money? A couple of guys from Dog Company are setting up a poker game,” Malarkey asked her. “Unless you blew your whole savings in Paris?”

Alice smiled and shook her head. Then she looked over at him, where he walked, eagerly awaiting her response. “Fine. Fifty bucks, and I get to come watch.”

“Deal. You won’t regret it.”

By 1830 hours, Malarkey ate his words. The three men from Dog, highly amused to see Alice hanging around their poker match, had cleaned Malarkey completely out. But never one to be beat down, he left formulating a plan. Alice refused to lend him anything more for betting purposes, so he went to Skip.

Alice watched Skip fork over his sixty dollars. Malarkey hurried away. She walked over to Skip and folded her arms.

“You can kiss that money goodbye,” she said.

He just snorted. “What else is new? But I already set aside the money I’m taking to Paris.”

“Planning to get something cute for Faye?” When he looked over at her, she started smiling. He never failed to blush at her name. Alice placed a hand on his arm. “It’s adorable how much you love her.”

With another small scoff, he just shook his head. “Yeah, well, don’t go saying it around everybody else.” Then he smiled. “I think you’d like her. She’d like you, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

As they were speaking, standing under the entrance to a movie theater, Lieutenant Dike stalked by outside. They both watched him go. With a small scoff, and shake of his head, Skip took the cigarette out of his mouth and pointed after him. “She wouldn’t like him, though.”

Alice laughed. “Well, we knew she was smart already.”

“Shoulda put you in charge over him,” Skip muttered. “Or Welsh.”

“While I’m flattered you’d follow me into combat, I’m not so sure the replacements would,” she reminded him. 

Skip agreed. “They’re pretty stupid.”

They continued to stand quietly, finishing up their smokes. Men had started gathering inside for whatever picture would be shown that night. Alice just prayed it wouldn’t be Casablanca. She’d seen it four times in the past three weeks. Suddenly a blonde haired man caught her eye as he walked up the path to the theater.

“Buck!” She grinned and waved him down. “When did you get back?”

He stopped in front of them as Skip said hello too. His face looked worn, far older than she remembered him ever appearing. But he smiled and nodded. “Got in just before dinner. Had to meet the new CO.”

“Hey, Buck, are you XO now?” Skip asked.

He nodded. “Yes I am.”

“Good. Maybe you can keep Lieutenant Dike straight,” he said with a nod.

  
Buck looked from Skip to Alice in confusion. She just sighed and nodded. “He’s…”

Nothing else needed to be said. And nothing else really could be said, as at the same moment, Lieutenant Foley walked near them. But Buck got the picture.

“I’m gonna head inside. Do you know what’s being shown?” he asked. They both shook their heads. With a forced smile, he shrugged. “Guess I’ll get surprised then.”

With Buck heading inside, they turned back to their smoking. In the shelter of the lean-to theater entrance, the wind didn’t hit them, but the air still felt cold. Yet again, Alice bemoaned the lack of winter clothing. How the Army could be put together enough to plan entire invasions but couldn’t supply basic gloves, hats, scarves, and boots for winter in Europe astounded her.

Sure they were on leave, but they still did field exercises. Not that the veterans took them seriously; they didn’t, at all. At least that was Norman Dike’s problem, not hers.

“God, it’s cold,” Skip muttered.

He stamped out his cigarette. Once she had done the same, they went back inside. Alice didn’t know whether to be excited or irritated that George Luz had come to this movie. Depending on the picture, he would quote along with the actors. Hilarious, until it wasn’t. She decided to sit next to him, hoping to curb his impressions for the sake of the rest. 

“Hey, George,” she said.

He grinned. “Hey.” Taking his cigarette out of his mouth, he gestured to the front. “Is that Buck?”

“Yes it is! He got in a few hours ago.” 

Alice looked around. She saw Smokey and Perconte. In front of her and George, Lip and Joe Toye took up seats. That wasn’t going to end well, if George started his impressions. Though she supposed they should be thankful for those two: both liked George too much to break his face. Skip slipped into a seat behind her. She wondered if he sat there so he could kick George if necessary.

As it turned out, it was Seven Sinners. Alice had to tell herself not to audibly groan. She had seen Casablanca four times, but she’d seen Seven Sinners six. Though, at least it hadn’t all been in the past three weeks. However she knew George would have a field day with this one. John Wayne was one of his favorite people to imitate.

As the movie went on, George did more and more impressions. Alice tried to get him to keep it down, but based on the tensing shoulders of Lip and Joe in the front, she had a feeling it wasn’t working. It didn’t surprise her at all when Joe finally turned around with a glare that screamed murder.

“Luz, shut up.”

Lipton turned around with him. “I’m trying to watch this.”

George just took the cigarette out of his mouth lazily and gestured to the screen. “I’ve seen this movie thirteen times, ok?”

“Well I haven’t, so shut up,” Joe snapped, though he tried to keep his voice down. Then he looked right to Alice. 

Alice just threw her hands up in protest and defeat. Just as George seemed to resign himself to being quiet, however, Malarkey rushed in, whisper-shouting for Skip. Again, the evil eye of Joe Toye and the equally as put out Carwood Lipton followed the noise. Alice nearly laughed when George protested the interruption.

“Hey, Skip, where you been?” Malarkey asked.

He didn’t even turn from the screen. With his arms across his chest, he just drawled on. “Well, Don, I was at home in Tonawanda, but then Hitler started this whole thing, so now I’m here.”

Alice chuckled along with Perconte at his reaction. But Malarkey, unphased as usual, just shuffled into the seat beside Perco and tried to get comfy.

“How’d you make out in Craps?” Skip asked, still not looking at him.

“Not so bad.” Malarkey’s rustling money pulled Alice’s attention away. He soon handed Skip a stack of bills. “Here’s the sixty bucks I borrowed.”

“You’re paying me back?” Skip’s eyebrows raised. He looked down at the bills. “Surprising.”

“And to say thank you, a tip.”

Alice, Perconte, and Skip all gasped, the former two releasing hushed expletives. Malarkey handed over what looked to be several hundred dollars in cash. He grinned.

“Where’s my money!” Alice demanded. 

Malarkey snorted. He shooed her away. “If you’ll let me count it, you’ll get yours!” As he did so, he explained how the game went. “I was up six grand, but I only have 3600 left.”

“They may have jumped you if you’d walked away with six grand,” Alice muttered. Soon enough, five hundred and fifty US dollars lay in her hands. “God bless you, Don Malarkey.”

“Luck of the Irish,” Skip muttered.

Perconte, still looking at the wad of cash in Malarkey’s possession like a madman, asked for some. “What are you gonna do with all that dough?”

The whole room shushed them. Joe and Lipton seemed about thirty seconds from committing mass murder. But nothing could phase Don Malarkey. He went on to explain he wanted to use it in Paris on leave.

No sooner had Malarkey lowered his voice and started actually paying attention to the movie did George “John Wayne” Luz start up again. At this point, Alice found the enraged men of the front row even funnier than the movie, so she stayed out of it.

George kicked Lipton’s bench. “Lip! Favorite part.”

Now Alice knew George was doing it to get a rise. As she organized her cash, she just smiled and listened. He continued on.

“Got a penny?” He smirked. “Got a penny?” With a last, sad attempt at a Marlene Dietrich impression, he drawled, “Got a penny?”

As Lipton whirled around on George, he started downright giggling. Even Alice couldn’t contain herself any longer and laughed with George. When Joe Toye looked at her, eyes blazing in fury, she just shrugged and lit a cigarette.

Loud footsteps filled the theater. They all whipped around in surprise, half the patrons ready to murder whoever dared interrupt them again. But to their surprise, as the lights were flipped on, they found two men in full gear block the screen.

“Quiet! I said quiet!” As the Technician Fifth Grade yelled at them, they barely softened their protests. “Elements of the 1st and 6th SS Panzer Divisions have broken through in the Ardennes forest.” He frowned at the groans of the men. “Now they’ve overrun the 28th Infantry and elements of the 4th. All officers, report to respective HQs. All passes are cancelled. Enlisted men report to barracks and your platoon leaders.”

As quickly as the men had barged in, they hurried out. While most of the men in the theater continued to protest loudly, Alice didn’t move. She stayed where she was, quiet. While the enlisted hurried out, she caught sight of Dick. He was watching Buck closely, but soon his gaze turned to her. He gestured out the door.

Alice nodded. After a deep breath, she stood from her seat and followed him. She tossed her cigarette away as they exited the building. A blast of cold air and light rain hit her in the face. Alice shied away.

“At least we went to Paris already,” she muttered.

Dick gave a small huff. “Yeah. So much for three months to train.”

She frowned. Both hurried off towards Battalion HQ, eager to find more information. Where would they be going, when, and with what supplies? What supplies. Alice felt a pit form in her stomach. The Ardennes weren’t pleasant in the winter on the best of days. The reports she’d been hearing from Belgium pointed towards an even colder season than usual. 

With a quick prayer that they’d either be supplied before leaving, or not need to be supplied at all, Alice fell into step behind Dick. For the first time since returning to Mourmelon-le-Grand, she regretted leaving Paris. But it wouldn’t be the last.


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean, there’s no more ammo?”

Alice just shook her head in disbelief as Dick Winters talked to the ranking supply officer. She had accompanied him to get a handle on the situation. It had become apparent quite quickly that the 506th needed to get moving ASAP. The whole 101st had been ordered to the Ardennes. They’d hoped that by heading straight to Supply, they’d get a bit more than the other Battalions.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but we’ve not been resupplied.” The dark haired, young Lieutenant, arms across his chest, seemed impatient. He reached up above his head to pull a box down. “Listen, I know it’s not ideal, but you’re just going to have to go with what you’ve got.”

She felt herself bristling. “What we’ve got is nothing, Lieutenant.”

The man huffed, dropping the box at his feet. “With all due respect, sirs, that’s not my problem.” He pointed to the boxes around them in the store room. “I ordered more ammo. They haven’t sent it yet.”

Dick stared at the young man for a few moments. Standing beside him, Alice could see him biting back a sharp retort. But finally he nodded. Together, they left the Supply building.

“Well this isn’t going well,” Alice muttered. “Any other options?”

Dick shook his head. “Not in terms of supplies. There aren’t enough hats in all of Reims to supply the 2nd Battalion, and definitely no ammunition.” He paused, turning to her. “Go find Nixon, see if he has any idea on potential resupplies.”

“Right.” 

She sped off towards the building used by Regimental. All around her, enlisted hurried through the dark, damp night. Temperatures hadn’t improved. Any exposed skin on the pale faces around her turned a bright red. She knew her face probably didn’t look any better. When she reached the door, a fierce gale hit her in the face. Coughs wrecked her body for a moment as she stood inside. 

When she had a hold of herself, Alice dashed up the closest set of stairs. She passed a few lieutenants on her way up, none sparing her more than a glance. She ran into Nixon at the top of the stairs.

“You’re in a hurry,” he commented. But he didn’t leave her room for discussion as he started down the stairs. 

Alice rolled her eyes but turned and followed right back down next to him. Her feet hadn’t even started to warm up yet. “Dick wanted to know if there’s any chance at a resupply in the near future.”

“No idea,” he said. “It depends on the weather and the Germans.”

They hit the bottom of the stairs. Everywhere in the building and where they continued outside echoed with shouts and loud boots against the ground. Alice felt her heart racing.

“Colonel Strayer’s not back from England yet,” Nixon added a moment later. “I’m going to find Sink. Tell Dick to find me when he’s done talking to the Company Commanders.”

“Right.”

Alice watched Nixon hurry off to a building next door. Camp de Châlons in the frigid night, filled with tense voices, didn’t look anywhere near as appealing as usual. Now she had to find Dick. Again.

It took nearly half an hour of Alice searching Camp de Châlons before she found him again. He stood around a flaming oil drum with what looked to be Peacock, Buck, and Dike. He looked to be dressing down the Company Commander. Alice hurried up to them and slipped in between Buck and Dick.

“Lieutenant Compton, Lieutenant Peacock, inform Lieutenant Shames of the situation. Get all your platoons as best equipped as you can. Then report back here to me, understood?”

Buck and Peacock both nodded. Alice watched them hurry off. To her left, Dick had turned from her to Dike. He said nothing.

Dike, in turn, looked from Alice to Dick. He nodded. “Captain.” With a salute, he turned away.

Dick didn’t bother returning it. Both of them watched Easy’s commander move off to only God knew where. After a moment, he looked back at her. “Nix?”

“Knows about as much as the two of us,” she muttered. Alice continued to stare after Dike. Her mood soured. Then she turned back to Dick. “What’s next?”

His sigh told her all she needed to know. The two of them spent another couple minutes standing at the burning drum, neither particularly eager to leave the warmth. But as the organized chaos droned on, they knew they had to get moving.

“Thought it was you two.” Nixon moved over to them, his hands in his pockets. Like the rest of them, he had only a light scarf to protect his neck, and his nose glowed red from exposure. “Trust you to find the warmest spot on base and set up shop.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and began to warm them over the fire.

“How are we looking, Nix?” Dick asked.

He shrugged with a sigh. “Third Battalion is worse than you, if you can believe it. They have almost nothing. We’ll be putting them in reserve to start.” 

“Where exactly are we going?” Alice asked.

“As far as I could tell, the area around the town of Bastogne. Sink said he’d have more information by the time we get there.”

With that information to go on, which wasn’t much, they moved off to get more work done. Within an hour, the men had loaded up into trucks. They packed into the trucks like sardines. Men sat on the benches and in the bed, no room to stretch legs.

As Alice went to hop into a jeep with Nixon and Dick, grateful to be spared the pain of the troop trucks, she noticed a stash of medical supplies someone had left out in the open sitting on some crates. With a quick glance around to make sure no one watched, she moved to it and swiped the six syrettes. Stealing? Yes. But frankly Alice cared more about making sure Gene, Spina, and Mampre had supplies than the moral implications of taking someone else’s morphine.

Dick called over to her. “Alice, Let’s go!” 

She hurried back over and swung up beside Nixon. The private who drove them looked to Dick for directions. Once about half of 2nd Battalion’s trucks had moved out, he had them start.

The ride to the area surrounding Bastogne took almost four hours. Conditions had improved somewhat, the rain subsiding. But the air stayed freezing. Suddenly the idea of trading a pack of smokes for more socks seemed a lot more reasonable.

_“You need at least four in this weather. Feet, hands, neck, balls, extra socks warms them all.”_

Alice laughed out loud at the memory. The boys had come up with the rhyme during winter training in Aldbourne. She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face even as Nixon looked at her.

“What?” 

Alice snickered. “Just something I remembered.”

He snorted. “Please, enlighten us. I could use a laugh.”

With a laugh, she nodded. Alice tapped Dick on the shoulder. When he turned around, she half shouted over the noisy trucks. “Hey, Dick, remember the sock rhyme?”

Immediately, he started smiling. Though he tried to suppress it, they could see it clear as day. Nixon once again insisted to be let in on the secret.

“I can’t remember if it was Guarnere or Muck who came up with it. Might’ve even been someone else,” she said. “It was a rhyme the men came up with to remember how many extra socks to bring.”

“Yeah, yeah. And what was the rhyme.”

“Feet, hands, neck, balls. Extra socks warms them all.”

Nixon spent half a second thinking before he cracked up. Soon enough, all three of them were suppressing their laughter with varying degrees of success. Finally, Nixon looked over to her.

“Did you remember them?”

“The socks?” Alice grimaced. “No. I’ve only got two pairs.”

“Well, you only need three,” he pointed out.

Immediately, Alice broke into another fit of laughter. Things seemed a little less bleak when she let her mind forget. When Dick turned around to look at her, she wasn’t paying attention. She also missed the look he sent Nixon.

Nearly four hours after setting off from Mourmelon-le-Grand, the trucks stopped in a neat line. As the paratroopers lept from the trucks and set off to immediately relieve themselves, she just looked around at the conditions. Snow lined the road, brown from dirt being kicked up. A few moments later, whole pools of poured out gasoline lit up in spectacular fashion to try and warm their bodies.

As she hauled herself from the jeep, legs aching, Alice pulled out a cigarette. Her fingers trembled as she tried to light it. Finally, after what she considered far too long, it caught. Alice hurried after Dick and Nixon towards Colonel Sink.

As Sink rattled off instructions to them, she listened patiently. As suspected, they’d be defending the town of Bastogne. It’s strategic value to both the Allies and the Germans couldn’t be overstated. About a minute into his short briefing, they heard someone rush up.

Colonel Strayer, still in his dress uniform, came up to them. He shook his head. “Barely made it.”

They all nodded at him. While he went to go find some fatigues, Sink finished outlining the plan. As Alice looked at the map, she grimaced at the sheer amount of territory 2nd Battalion needed to secure.

“Let’s roll,” he said at last.

“Sir, we’re a little short on ammunition,” Nixon ventured.

Sink turned back to them as he moved towards his own jeep. He narrowed his eyes. “How short?”

Dick answered him. “There was a limited supply in camp, sir.”

With a small huff, Alice nodded along. Limited supply. Meaning, nothing. Absolutely nothing. How the Americans had screwed up so bad, she couldn’t tell.

“Cap’n, you beg, borrow, or steal ammo. But you defend this area.”

Both Nixon and Dick gave small, half-hearted ‘sirs’ before saluting. Just as Sink went to drive off, he stopped. “Klein.”

“Sir?”

“Keep doin’ what you’re doin’. Stay with Second unless we need you in the town,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Without further ado, Colonel Sink drove off. For a few moments, Nixon, Alice, and Dick stood silent. Alice sucked at her cigarette. All around them, men did the same or stretched and waited for further instructions. And then Alice saw them. 

She took her cigarette out of her mouth, entranced by what she saw. Thousands of American soldiers moved down the large road leading into Bastogne, bandages wrapped around faces and limbs, blood seeping through the white wraps. They moved without purpose. All of them looked like hell. None of them made eye contact.

“Dick,” she murmured. Alice couldn’t take her eyes off them. She raised her voice a little. “Nixon.”

The men, previously standing together discussing plans, turned to look at her. But immediately they noticed what had her attention. They joined her.

“Jesus,” Nixon murmured.

It didn’t take long for the enlisted men of the 506th to step in. Near them, Bill Guarnere’s quick thinking led them to take as much ammo as possible from the shell-shocked battalion. Her feet stayed rooted to the ground, though. Alice couldn’t take her eyes off the vacant gazes of the retreating infantry.

Her heart sank. Alice felt like she wanted to throw up. Not because of the men wandering past aimlessly covered in blood, but because of what it spoke to. This was the hell her friends, her family, moved towards. Freezing nights, bloody days.

Even as a truck of ammunition showed up, a lieutenant taking the initiative to gather what he could for the arriving paratroopers, Alice couldn’t quite move. She hadn’t prayed in a long time, too frustrated with herself and with the world and with God. But in that moment, she did. She prayed not for herself, but for the men. She prayed that they’d make it out alive.


	3. Chapter 3

It took all day on the eighteenth for the 506th to occupy their positions. Easy took up a position in a straight shot from Foy back in the Ardennes forest with the 501st on their right flank. The 506th’s 1st Battalion occupied Foy itself. Alice didn’t envy them at all. The Germans would attack there first. 

That first day saw foxholes being dug and lots of meetings with Battalion and Regimental. They had little time for much else, but what time they did have, they tried to nap. Napping took real effort, though. For Alice it took crashing from total exhaustion that night to be able to ignore the biting cold and snow in favor of resting.

By afternoon on the nineteenth, Alice already felt herself going stir crazy at the CP. Dick took pity on her. Armed with orders to check on Easy Company and report back to Battalion on their progress, she made the hike up to the line.

The crunch of the fresh snow beneath her boots made more noise in the forest than anything else around her. The gentle stillness of the Ardennes coated in snow seemed to suck the simplest of natural noise from the air. Her face stung so bad that Alice didn’t even want to touch it. The irrational part of her brain told her her nose would just fall off.

Alice kept her pistol out as she walked. Her hands shook as she held the grip. She’d managed to scrounge up a pair of worn out gloves when going through the supplies for the CP, but they did little against the wet cold of Bastogne. And as much as she knew the benefits of having a helmet on during a war, the metal felt so cold against her skull that Alice genuinely considered going without and hoping for the best.

She caught sight of a couple people in a foxhole directly in front of her, about twenty yards ahead. Almost instantly, they whipped around, guns trained right on her. She put her hand and her gun up in surrender. They put their own down.

“Hey, Lieutenant,” Hoobler said with a grin. “Come to join the rest of us in this hellscape?”

Alice laughed. She moved up towards them, coming to crouch down by their foxhole. Hoobler sat inside with Skinny, the latter with his arms and legs as close to his body as possible for warmth. Hoobler had a smile, Skinny just sat with his expression so straight, it almost made her laugh. “Hey boys. Thought I’d take a walk, see the sights.”

“Well do us all a favor?” Hoobler asked.

She chuckled. “Anything for you, Hoobs.”

“See if Foxhole Norman can get sent to the Russian Front.”

Alice knew she shouldn’t laugh. But she couldn’t help it. Soon enough even Skinny had a smile on his face. Alice shook her head. “That’s above my paygrade, I’m afraid.” She stood back up to continue on.

“You said you’d do anything for me, Alice,” Hoobler argued, still grinning.

With a roll of her eyes, she tried to stuff her smile down. It took walking away to be able to manage that. Her arms across her chest did little to warm her, but she tried to think otherwise.

“Is that Marlene Dietrich?”

Alice grinned as George, Skip, and Alex popped up along the side of a foxhole, cigarettes hanging out of their stupid grins. George, who had called over to her, moved up to sit on the edge of the foxhole. She joined him.

“Not Marlene Dietrich,” Alice quipped back. She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Just a lonely, German girl out for a stroll in the Ardennes.”

Alex snorted out a laugh. “Right. Armed with a Colt M1911. Totally innocent.”

They all cracked up at his point. For several minutes, Alice stayed and chatted with the three of them. It amazed her at how unphased they seemed by the poor conditions and lack of supplies. Though she supposed if anyone from Easy Company would still be laughing, George, Skip, and Alex were the three.

“Alice?”

She turned around from the edge of the foxhole. Lipton, half smiling, walked over and joined them. Immediately, she pushed herself up to stand with him. “Hey, Lip. Just the person I came to see.”

He gave a small laugh. Shaking his head, he gestured down to the three men in the foxhole. “Don’t get too comfy, boys.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout us, Lip,” Skip insisted.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said back. Turning to Alice, he gestured away. “You needed me?”

They walked over to an open spot beneath some trees far enough to be out of earshot. Alice studied him. His nose glowed red, almost comically so, and she would’ve laughed if Alice hadn’t realized she certainly looked no better. After glancing around the forest, she nodded.

“Winters wants a report on Easy. Protocol says go to Dike, my brain says go to you,” she told him. “So far everyone I’ve met seems to be okay. Thoughts?”

Lipton sighed. He looked around, through the trees. Then he turned back to her. “Most of them are fine, especially the Toccoa men. I’ve encouraged the NCOs to take turns in foxholes with the replacements, but so far it doesn’t seem to be catching on,” he admitted. “It’s only been a couple days, though.”

“How’s Dike?”

He straightened up. “I’m sure he’s doing work.”

“Lip, it’s me.”

With a small sigh, he nodded. “So far, I’ve not seen much of him. Buck’s doing his best to communicate with the other Platoon Leaders, but Dike’s not doing any better here than he did on the Island.”

Her heart sank, but Alice certainly wasn’t surprised. She didn’t respond, just nodding ever so slightly as she looked around at the various foxholes in the Ardennes. 

“Can you do me a favor, though,” Lip started, a moment later. When she nodded, he shuffled in the snow. “Look, I know you’ve got your favorites here.” When she went to object, he just smiled and shook his head. “Who doesn’t? But would you mind visiting some of the new boys? I’ve tried to get the others to do it. But most of them don’t want to, since they just…”

“A lot of them die,” she summed up.

“Yeah.” Lip frowned. “Yeah, they do.”

They stood in a moment of silence. Neither spoke. The emptiness of the snowy forest surrounded them. As Alice thought about the death rate of the replacements compared to the Toccoa men, she understood the hesitance of the older guys to befriend them. Finally she looked back up at Lip. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go talk to them.”

“Thanks.”

She shot him a small smile and nodded. Lipton directed her towards a few foxholes. Apparently Babe and an even newer guy, John Julian, had taken up residence over there. She headed over.

A rifle and a young, pale face with dark eyes popped up towards her not long after. Alice held her hands up in peace. It didn’t take long for Babe’s unmistakable Philadelphia accent to cut through the quiet.

“Hey, Julian, she’s on our side. Drop the gun,” he snapped.

Alice laughed, “Thanks, Babe. You’re John Julian, right?” Moving over to them, she crouched down at the edge of their foxhole. When he nodded back, she smiled. “Call me Alice. You guys have room for me?”

“Yeah, ‘a course.” Babe scooted over.

She slipped in. Moving to sit closer to Babe, she smiled across at Julian. With a chuckle, she just shook her head. “So, what terrifying stories have the NCOs been telling about me these days?” When Babe let out a snicker beside her, she smiled even wider.

Julian shrugged. He readjusted his gun. “They said you’re the best sniper in the whole Battalion.”

Alice started laughing again. “Ok, I’m flattered, but my money would be on Shifty if we were using American weapons.”

“Julian, she ain’t gonna admit to anything,” Babe said.

“Oh yeah?” She turned to Babe. “Is that so, Heffron?”

Suddenly he looked slightly worried. “I just…”

With a laugh, Alice turned from him back to Julian. “Babe, Garcia, and Hashey all got terrifying stories of me going Kraut hunting all on my own. Martin and Guarnere insisted I was the scariest sonofabitch in the Regiment.”

“You are,” countered Babe. “But not for those reasons.”

“What do you mean?” She looked at him in confusion.

“Word is, you’ve got Sink’s ear, an' Winters and Nixon too,” he ventured.

She stared at him for a moment before grinning like an idiot. With a small shake of her head, she tried to deny it. “Those rumors have been going around since Toccoa, Babe. I have yet to be able to use my powers of suggestion to get anything meaningfully important done for me.”

“You trained at Toccoa?” Julian asked.

She turned back to him. “Yes, I was there at the beginning.”

“Hey, Lieutenant, we’ve heard lots of stories,” Babe ventured. After a quick scan of the forest, he turned back to her.

“What kind of stories,” she asked.

“Some of the guys call you a Nazi,” Julian admitted. “The new ones, mostly.”

Babe glared at him. “Ey! She ain’t a Nazi.”

“I’ve been hearing that one since day one, boys,” she admitted. Settling down further in the foxhole, Alice sighed. Her head laid back against the frozen earth. “I am not a Nazi. I am German. I’m also half French.”

“Why’d you end up in the paratroopers?” Julian asked.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment. After taking a few deep breaths of frigid air, she shrugged. “Well, I worked against the Nazis in the Maquis, one of the Resistance groups in France. I’m fairly well connected to the Free French,” she admitted. “I had a friend at the University of Paris who got me and several friends involved in the Undergound.”

“Who?” Babe asked.

She smiled sadly at no one in particular. “Geneviève de Gaulle.”

“De Gaulle?” Julian looked at her in surprise. “Like, Charles de Gaulle?”

“The same.” She nodded. “Geneviève helped us organize, spoke about her Uncle’s vision and the Free French. When I joined a Maquis cell, knowing her and having contacts in Germany made me a good choice for this job. I also know English, German, and French fluently, and have working knowledge of Dutch.”

“Wow,” Julian murmured.

“I trained starting at Toccoa. Dropped on D-Day, dropped in Market Garden. Got wounded there, as Babe knows.” She saw him nod. “Now I’m here.”

Babe watched her for a second before turning back to Julian. “See, she definitely ain’t a Nazi.”

“No.” Alice shook her head with a small frown. “No, I’m only a Nazi if every German is.”

After a few more minutes of small talk, she moved on to the next foxhole. Most of the men she spoke with fell into two categories: either they had zero interest in hearing anything she had to say, or listened on bated breath. She checked in with Garcia and Hashey too, both of whom she’d tried to stay up to date with since they’d rescued Bull.

But before long, night started to fall. Through the grey cloud cover, they didn’t get to see the sun setting, but it kept growing darker and darker. With a last quick word to Lipton, Alice headed back to the CP.

Dick and Nixon sat huddled in a small tent-like shelter, sipping at coffee when she got back. Alice set her gun back in her holster and plopped down on the ground. Nixon handed her a cup a moment later.

“How was your adventure?” Nixon asked.

She shrugged and turned to Dick. “They’re handling it surprisingly well, even with the weather and the lack of ammo and supplies. But they’re barely getting hit with anything,” she added.

Nixon sighed. “Yeah, well, let’s hope it stays that way.”

She did. Once she’d scrounged up a meager dinner, Alice returned to her foxhole. She’d managed to track down a tarp in the CP supplies and used it to cover her hole. Ordinarily, she’d have been fine, even happy, to stare at the sky. But the absolute black of the cloud-cover gave her tremendous anxiety. The tarp helped stave that off.

But even with the little hideaway she’d set up, the frigid cold and the oppressive silence of the Ardennes kept her awake. She hadn’t slept alone in combat basically since they’d first invaded Europe. She’d always had a foxhole buddy in Normandy, usually Harry, and in Holland, they’d had barns and farmhouses. Now, she felt the absence of Easy vividly. Even in the Alps, she’d had her brother and the other Resistance fighters.

At 0245 hours, she heard the crumbling and crunching of another tarp, and then a small groan. Alice decided to investigate. She poked her head out of the foxhole. It didn’t surprise her to find Nixon checking his watch in the middle of the CP.

With a huff, Alice hauled herself out. Her hands stung as she pushed them into the snow for leverage. Nixon turned to her in surprise. After taking a moment to try to warm her hands up even just a little, she joined him.

“Where are you going?” she whispered.

He sighed. “I was gonna check the line.”

“Right.” Alice shifted where she stood, pulling her helmet on. “Let’s go.”

“Can’t sleep?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Neither said anything further. With a rifle in hand, Alice followed him out to go check what they could. Somehow night in the snowy forest held even less noise than the day. It wasn’t even just a silence as they walked through the trees in the darkness, but a stillness. Nothing seemed to move except the two of them.

It didn’t take long to locate the three companies in the 2nd Battalion. Fox, Dog, and then Easy managed to cover their areas well. But as they came to the edge of Second Platoon on the right flank, they both stopped in confusion.

“Where’s the 501st?” Alice stood silent in the cold. She looked around. Twenty yards back, the last Easy Company foxhole guarded the area. Here, they couldn’t find anyone. 

Nixon narrowed his eyes. He looked around. By now, 0430 hours, they needed to get moving back to the CP. Searching for the missing regiment in the frozen dark would be a bad idea anyways. He sighed.

“We’ll stretch 2nd Platoon a little further,” he decided. “Let’s find Buck.”

By the time they’d had Buck deploy a squad further down the line, Alice felt herself drifting off even in the cold. As she and Nixon trekked back to the command post for 2nd Battalion, she could see him thinking. All of his usual witty humor seemed to have disappeared. Alice felt the exact same way.

As they wandered into the CP, she sighed. “We’ve got too many gaps,” she muttered. 

Nixon just turned to her and gave an almost imperceptible nod. They watched each other carefully. Finally, Alice sighed and said goodnight. She crept back into her foxhole slowly. Laying her helmet to the side, Alice tried to cover herself with her scratchy blanket as best she could. She curled up against the side. If the Germans knew where to hit the Allies, they would break through no problem. So Alice prayed that they wouldn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

She didn’t sleep more than a handful of hours. Maybe it was the total silence of the Ardennes, but whenever she heard anyone moving about, Alice woke up. At 0900 hours, that meant Dick Winters. Just as Alice climbed up, though, she saw Dick pause. Then he gestured to someone else.

Alice pulled her pistol out. Moments later, she heard Dick speaking what bit of German he’d picked up in lessons and from her. Alice followed his gun barrel and saw an enemy soldier moving towards them, hands up. She pushed herself out of the foxhole.

To her surprise, Gene Roe stood near him. Even as she reached them, two other soldiers had hurried over and come up behind the young German soldier. Dick spared her a quick glance before he disarmed and inspected the man.

Man. Alice nearly laughed. It looked more like a boy who stood before her. Nineteen, maybe twenty. Her brain said she needed to be angry, mad that this boy had joined a force intending to kill her. But her heart went out to him.

“Woher kommen Sie?” she asked. 

Everyone, German and American, stopped what they were doing for a moment to look at her. But she only spared Dick a quick glance before turning back to the German soldier. He watched her closely.

“Woher kommen Sie,” she repeated.

“Lübeck,” he said. After bracing himself, when he realized they weren’t going to shoot him for speaking, he glanced at her again. “Sie sind Deutsche?”

“Ja. Hamburg.”

He stared at her for a bit. Alice felt her voice catch in her throat. His city wasn’t far from hers. As Dick pulled a bandage from the man’s jacket and tossed it to Gene, he watched him and then turned back to her.

“Warum bist du bei den Amerikanern?”

To her surprise, the question didn’t sound accusatory. He seemed more curious about why she fought for the Americans than angry. Alice hesitated. Then she turned to Dick. “Can I talk to him, before we send him to Regimental?” Alice asked. “Please?”

Dick looked at her silently, and then at the prisoner. He took a deep breath. But he nodded. “Five minutes.” 

At the same moment, they heard a jeep rumbling through the snow. As Dick turned away and, with a newly arrived Colonel Strayer, went to meet the jeep, Alice grabbed the soldier’s arm and guided him a ways away. The two guards moved with her. She had them wait about fifteen feet back, worried about how their presence could scare the German soldier. Then she started to speak to him in German again.

“You asked me why I fight with them?” When he nodded, she sighed. “I want to free Germany from Hitler. Protect my home, our home.”

He shook his head. “Do you know what they did to us? Have you seen what they did to Hamburg, to Lübeck? It came on us in the night, like a great fire from heaven. But it wasn’t from heaven, it was from hell. My father and brother burned that night. These Allies, they want to destroy Germany.”

“No,” Alice insisted. “They want to destroy Hitler, and the Germany that the Führer has twisted.”

They watched each other for a few, quiet moments. She forgot about the cold, and the wet snow, and the biting air. And it seemed the soldier before her did as well.

“What’s your name?” Alice asked him.

“Franz.” He waited a moment. “And yours?”

“Alice.” Then she paused. “Adélaïde. My mother was French, from just east of Épinal.”

“I could call you a traitor for wearing that uniform,” Franz said a moment later.

Alice nodded. “You could. And you’d be right. I am a traitor to Hitler’s Germany. But I’m here, fighting in this uniform, because Germany lost its way. Were the Allies wrong in what they did to us after the last war? Absolutely. But those men, they aren’t these men. And Hitler is a lot worse than these.”

“And these Americans, these Allies, they’re going to win this war? You would fight under their colors, their orders, against your own people to see the Führer fall?”

“To free Europe, to free Germany? Without hesitation.”

Alice looked into his brown eyes, and he looked right back at her. Neither spoke for several moments. She hoped he was genuinely thinking about what she’d said. 

“If you don’t do anything stupid, these Americans will treat you fairly,” Alice added. She turned back the guards and called them over. “You don’t need to die for Hitler’s dream.”

Franz gave a small nod as the guards took hold of the side of each arm. He watched her for a few more moments as he was dragged away. Her feet wouldn’t move. Alice stood where she was, looking at the tree where she’d had Franz stand.

“You alright?” Nixon looked at her carefully, coming to stand in front of her. He took a long drink of his flask. “Dick said you were talking to a prisoner?”

“Ja.” She shook her head. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Good. Then you can come help me and Dick from throwing rocks after General McAuliffe’s jeep,” he said. 

He said it so seriously, that Alice actually turned to him in surprise. But when he started smirking, she just shook her head. Alice tried not to laugh. She failed.

“What did he say?” she asked in surprise.

With a roll of his eyes, Nixon just gestured back to where Dick stood looking at a piece of paper in the middle of the CP. As they walked over, he glanced up. “Learn anything interesting?”

“Not to you,” she said. With a shrug, she tried to catch a last glimpse of Franz and the two soldiers. “I think he may be more inclined to cooperate for Regimental, though.”

Nixon nodded. “That’s good, then.”

He and Dick told Alice about General McAuliffe’s ultimatum. With 1st Battalion retreating from Foy having taken heavy casualties, they needed to be prepared for the worst. They’d already sent a runner up to the line for all three companies in 2nd Battalion, but there was more to do.

“Doc Roe is still looking for supplies,” Dick told her. “He’s trying to find 3rd Battalion, but I’m not confident they’ll have any more supplies than us.”

“Probably not,” she agreed.

“I want you to head into Bastogne. I’m sending Harry for HQ Company. Track down whatever supplies you can scrounge. Beg, steal, I don’t care. Get us something. Top priority is medical supplies. After that, ammo, and then from there anything to keep everyone warm.” 

“Right.”

A jeep arrived after about ten minutes for her. The ride into Bastogne didn’t take long, a little over five minutes, and before long she’d climbed out of the jeep and looked around. Almost immediately, Alice felt like throwing up.

Along the sides of the road, dozens of corpses, probably over a hundred along the whole route, had been piled high. The freezing temperatures meant they couldn’t dig a grave, and they certainly couldn’t burn that many bodies without risking the attention of the Germans. But despite the piles of bodies having a logical explanation, it hurt to look at. These men, these soldiers had given their lives for a foreign nation and couldn’t even be buried properly.

“Pretty horrible, huh,” the driver told her as she stood next to the jeep. “I threw up when I first came into Bastogne.”

Alice glanced back at him. After asking where they’d set up a base for the wounded, she set off into a church at the end of the road near the town center. Around her, Alice saw civilians chatting in small groups. Soldiers congregated with themselves.

By the time she reached the red-brown bricked church, she’d already seen half a dozen wounded men limping around or trying to take some time to have a smoke. She found the inside even worse. Men lined the walls, leaning for support. Half of them didn’t take notice of her, the other half watched her in confusion.

Alice took the steps down. Her boots pounded against the stone, echoing around her. Moans and groans filled the air. At the bottom, she halted in her step.

“Are you wounded?”

Alice looked left at the sound of a woman’s voice. She found herself looking at a tired young nurse, her face drawn, with light brown hair. But when they looked at each other, Alice saw her surprise.

“You’re a woman?” She walked over. “With the Americans?”

Switching to French, Alice nodded. “Yes. I am part of the European resistance.”

At her french, the woman flashed her a small smile. “I’m Renee. From here.”

“I’m Alice, from Paris.” She moved over to her, out of the way of an American medic who watched them closely. “You’re a nurse.”

“Yes. I was visiting my parents for Christmas when the Germans attacked. Now we’re stuck.” She sighed. While checking on the bandage of an unconscious soldier she continued to explain. “I’ve been trying to help the Allies. There isn’t much for me in Brussels anymore. But in Bastogne, I can do some good.”

“You don’t look very happy about that,” Alice ventured.

Renee sighed, straightening back up. “No. I suppose I’m tired of patching bleeding bodies back together.”

“Then why do you keep helping?”

“The Nazis got my fiance. They took him away because he’s a Jew. If I stop this, I might as well pull the gun on him,” she explained. Then she looked over at her. “What did you come for?”

“Supplies. Anything you can spare,” she told her. “Especially bandages.”

“Come, we’ll see what we’ve got.”

Alice followed Renee further into the church. About half the thrown together cots lay occupied. As she passed a medic, she heard him talking to another man about impending casualties. Apparently the men retreating from the 506th’s 1st Battalion were on their way and needed help, bad.

“There isn’t much,” Renee said with a sigh. “I suppose you can take a bag of the bandages. They’re bed sheets. But that’s all. If you come back tomorrow, there may be more we can offer. It depends on how much we need for today,” she explained.

Alice took the small bag of bed sheet strips. “Anything helps.”

“No morphine, no plasma,” she added. “I’m sorry, we can’t spare that right now.”

Suddenly another woman’s voice, shouting from one room over, pulled Renee away. Alice hurried after her. Soon they came up to a young black woman, also speaking French. Alice looked at her in surprise. But there wasn’t time for introductions as a dozen men were brought down the stairs into the aid station.

Alice hurried out of the way. With little medical knowledge, Alice was about as useful as the men on the line would’ve been to the wounded. Without a chance to say goodbye, Alice hurried up the cleared stairs and back to the jeep.

She struck out on the rest of her list. She only managed to find one blanket and no ammo. With a heavy heart, Alice flagged down a jeep heading back towards the 506th. The ride went smoothly. But by the time she reached the CP, in mid afternoon, the tension had increased tenfold. News of the Germans marching from Foy had circulated. With 1st Battalion gone, that left 2nd Battalion to defend Bastogne. Everyone hoped it would be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**December 21, 1944**

Nixon’s expression told them everything they needed to know when he returned to the CP a few hours after lunch. He’d gone for a walk up to Easy’s First Platoon. Not ten minutes later, frantic calls for a jeep to the Easy CP had jolted the Battalion radio op from his musings. Alice felt like her heart was going to explode, not knowing who had been hit or how bad.

“What happened?” Dick demanded. 

Nixon shook his head. He looked furious. “Peacock’s patrol ran into the German line. Private Julian got hit and they couldn’t reach him. Then Smith got hit. They called a Jeep and Doc Roe sent him into Bastogne.” He shook his head. After taking a drink of his flask, he gestured in the general direction he’d come from. “They all looked… like hell. Sergeant Martin took over, pulled them back. Heffron didn’t take it well.”

It took all her strength for Alice not to insist on going up to Easy. That made three casualties for First Platoon in one day: Skinny, Julian, Smith. Two wounded, one Killed in Action. So Alice just turned to Dick, silent. He stood thinking and then met her gaze.

“You want to go up.” He didn’t ask it, he knew. “I’ll go, too. I’ll get the full report from Martin.”

“Right,” Nixon said.

It didn’t take long for her and Dick to both get their gear together. They traveled with sidearms and rifles, and they traveled in silence. Soon they were approaching Easy’s CP, which seemed now to be full of First Platoon’s men.

The first thing to stick out to Alice was how quiet they were. First Platoon usually had plenty of noisemakers, between George and Skip, Malarkey, and Alex. Even the quieter guys in First were never silent. But now, now they were silent. They’d been outside Bastogne for less than a week, and her friends had already been reduced to painful silence.

As Dick went straight over to Johnny, who stood on the outside of the circle of seated men, watching them, Alice stayed away. Her gaze darted over the men, trying to figure out where to begin picking up the pieces. And there were a lot of pieces.

Gene sat outside the group, watching them all the same way she did. Except she noticed he lingered on Babe. She followed his gaze and understood why immediately. The usually untroubled young man had his legs near his chest, his face buried in his hands over his knees. Her mind took her to the previous day, when she’d sat with him and Julian. Tears filled her eyes, but she forced them down. She couldn’t grieve. Not yet, at least.

Dick moved to sit in the circle, setting up next to Bull. He didn’t say anything, just sat with them. Alice figured this whole thing hurt Dick deeply, as he couldn’t afford to be as close to the men he’d trained as he could’ve as their CO.

She found George smoking, sitting quietly against a tree with his forty pound radio next to him. Not even a hint of a smile graced his features. Skip had taken up a spot perpendicular to him on the same tree. He didn’t smoke, just closed his eyes and lay his head back. Malarkey and Alex sat in the circle. Pat Christenson smoked next to Hoobler.

The decision to walk away tore her apart, but she knew they all needed time to just process the patrol before she could try to help. So Alice backed away. Instead, she decided to check on the men not involved in the patrol. She started with Third Platoon, and ignoring the ache in her stomach from missing dinner, she eventually wrapped around to Second.

Walking up to Toye as he muttered a frustrated and somewhat defeated “fuck” into the darkness of the Ardennes trees pretty much summed up how she felt. He didn’t notice her at first. 

“Hey, Joe,” she whispered. 

He swiveled around to look at her. With a sigh he shook his head. “You here to harass me, too?”

“What?” Alice came over to him and shook her head. “Who’s harassing you?”

He groaned and looked in a different direction. “Doc.”

“Well, Doc would only harass you if it kept you safe,” she reminded him. Sitting next to him on the edge of his foxhole, she shook her head. “So, what’d you do?”

“What?”

As she shifted her rifle into her arms for safety she just shrugged. “What’d you do to make Gene harass you?”

“My fucking boots got hit by a shell. Now I got trench foot,” he growled. “And before you say anything about me comin’ off the line, I ain’t comin’ off.”

She hummed thoughtfully. With a small shrug, Alice just continued to stare off towards where she knew the OP sat, and beyond the OP, the German line. “Good,” she finally said. “We need you up here.”

Joe turned to her immediately. Clearly she’d caught him off guard. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Alice sighed, and massaged her forehead for a moment. “I’m worried about Babe. And all of First.”

Joe nodded. He and all of Second Platoon had heard about the failed patrol from Buck after dinner. As he tried to work at his foot, get it to move a bit more, he sighed again. “They’ll be fine. Babe’s tough. He’s from Philly after all.”

A tiny, half-hearted laugh escaped her. “Yeah. And you know what they’re like.”

“Fucking tough as nails.”

Alice broke into a smile at his comment. With a small shake of her head as she still grinned, Alice looked away from him, out into the dark. She yawned.

“So, you talk to them yet?”

“Who?” Then she shook her head. “Oh, First. No. They needed space, so I’ve been making my way around the rest of Easy.” Then she looked around in confusion. “Hey, have you seen Dike? I don’t think I’ve seen him at all today.”

Joe scoffed. “Fucking Foxhole Norman? No. Thank God. Feed him to the Germans, make everybody happier.”

For a brief moment, Alice just stared at him in surprise. Then she broke out into a fit of giggles. The mental image was too good. 

“Missed that, around here.”

“Missed what?”

He gestured to her with his wet sock, trying to dry it. “You out here. I’d rather take orders from you than Dike, that’s for sure. At least you were properly trained.”

At first she just shook her head with a smile. “Not a huge compliment, but I’ll take it.” Then, as her smile fell, she shook her head. “Thanks. For what it’s worth, I’d rather be out here with Easy.”

“Never said you were smart,” he admitted.

“Says the man who won’t come off the line with trench foot!”

He smirked and shook his head. “Another reason we should feed Dike to the Germans. You got pushed out cause ‘a him.”

“I was-”

“Promoted? Fucking right. You were promoted in the way Sobel got promoted. You got promoted to get you out of his way. Guess he saw you as a threat.”

She fell quiet. Around them, they heard sporadic and distant machine gun fire from other areas on the line. Beyond that, there were no birds and no bugs and barely a breeze. The snow blanketed the world. With a tiny smile, she shrugged. “Not bad for a ‘fucking nazi broad,’ huh.”

His eyes widened. Joe Toye looked down into his foxhole. But she just shook her head and nudged him. 

“I don’t hold Toccoa against any of you. But, it does serve as a reminder to me that I am always going to be second, at least in the beginning. And honestly, as long as I’m left alone to do my job, that’s ok. I’m not here to fight to be recognized,” she insisted. After a bit more silence, she moved to stand up. “Well, I should go check on First. I told Winters I’d be staying up here for the night.”

He nodded and pointed down the line. “Doc went off that way looking for Babe, if you want him.”

Alice looked in the direction he pointed. After a brief pause, she shook her head. “No, Gene can handle it. I’ll go find Johnny.”

“Right.”

She turned around. “Oh, Joe.”

“Yeah?”

“I will pull you off the line if you don’t take care of yourself,” she said. 

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”

Alice just laughed. As she hurried off towards First Platoon, she wandered into Lipton. He gave her directions to Johnny’s hole. It didn’t surprise her to see him sitting up, awake, smoking at a cigarette. When she walked over, he glanced up.

“Alice.”

“Johnny.”

She didn’t wait for an invitation before slipping into the hole as well. For his part, Johnny didn’t comment, just watched her. Pulling out a Lucky Strike, she lit with a flick of her lighter and then settled back, closing her eyes. She could feel the cold getting under her skin again. Now that she’d stopped walking around, her face began to chill again, losing the warmth of exercise.

“How’re they doing,” Johnny asked a minute later. “Since I assume that’s why you’re up here.”

“What, I can’t just come up here for fun?” she muttered. When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes and looked over. “I actually wanted to ask you that. I managed to get around to Second and Third, but I figured you guys could use some time without me hanging around.”

Johnny didn’t respond right away. “We couldn’t get to him. Babe tried, but we couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This fucking war,” he muttered. Then he turned her way. “Heard anything about Skinny?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

They fell back into silence. Alice allowed the smoke to fill her lungs, trying to gain some small amount of warmth and calm from it. The darkness all around them evoked a strange dichotomy of emotions for Alice. On the one hand, the silent night calmed her, on the other, it felt oppressively threatening. She eventually turned his way again.

“You okay, Johnny?” she asked, voice low.

He turned to her in surprise. After a moment, he took his finished cigarette from his mouth and threw it against the other side of the foxhole. “I’m sick of seeing these fucking kids get hit and get killed,” he muttered. “Sick of it.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Yeah, me too.” After several quiet moments, she looked at him again. Alice shrugged. “But, at least they’ve got a leader like you. You lead them better than any of the officers, except maybe Buck,” she added with a small smile.

Johnny sighed. “Yeah, if we could get some fucking competent officers, that’d be nice. Buck’s the only one left.”

“Well, Dick still looks out for Easy as he can,” she reminded him. “Nixon, too. And Harry whenever possible.” Her heart constricted. “And, I’m doing what I can.”

“The fact that you even make an effort to talk to the kids is proof enough,” he reminded her. “Half the Toccoa men won’t even look at ‘em. I saw ya talking to Julian and Babe yesterday. How are you doing?”

Alice’s voice faltered. She took her cigarette out and let the smoke form a cloud in the cold. Then she shrugged. “I’m alright.”

He watched for a few more seconds before shrugging. “I assume you won’t be diggin’ your own hole? Better not kick me in your sleep if you’re staying.”

Alice snorted. “I’d go find another one but I’d hate to leave you all alone.”

The look that Johnny flashed her even through the dark made her laugh. But as she grabbed the blanket of whoever had shared this foxhole previously, she just shook her head. “Reminds me a bit of D-Day.”

“You’re insane, you know that?”

She laughed, still facing the other direction, all wrapped up. “You’re talking to a German woman fighting the German Army with a bunch of paratroopers. Not sure this was even a debate.” 

Hearing Johnny laugh made her smile, however short and harsh the laugh was. Soon enough, the two of them quieted down. Alice hoped she’d get some sleep. All she really wanted was to dream of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See one-shot "The Mutual Assurance Proposition" for more after this chapter, does contain spoilers for later chapters of Humanity of the Broken.


	6. Chapter 6

**December 24, 1944**

It took all her strength to wake up that morning. Her body ached. The snow crept into all different areas, freezing her body and making her tremble endlessly. She’d started coughing the night before. Quickly Alice made it her mission to keep that particular development to herself. She could breathe for now. If she ever couldn’t, then she’d make a fuss.

News of Smokey had made its way to the Battalion CP the previous night. Alice had shed a few tears once she’d crawled into her foxhole for the night. No one wanted to see Smokey paralyzed. Everyone loved him, even those who became the punchline of his poems. That made for two Toccoa men already sent into what passed as the field hospital at Bastogne: Skinny Sisk and Smokey Gordon.

The battle had become a full scale siege. The Americans had hunkered down on the edge of Bastogne. The Germans came at them daily, hoping to break through at a weak point. That weak point would not be the 506th, though. Alice knew that.

Her body finally warmed enough as she came to consciousness for Alice to get moving. First she did a few circles with her ankles and tried to move her toes. Biting her cheek through the pain, she clambered out of the foxhole. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light off the snow. With the sun finally out, they’d gotten resupplied a couple days ago. Not that it’d brought much, only a bit of ammo, food, and medical supplies. 

“Good morning.”

Alice turned to her right as she stood outside her foxhole, sleeves as far over her hands as possible. She found Harry standing in a similar state. She nodded. “Time?” she asked.

“0900. You slept late,” he commented. Harry walked over and stood with her. “Pleasant dreams?”

Her dramatic eye roll said all she needed to in response to his cheeky question. With a snort and a nod, he didn’t push further. They continued to stand in silence.

“Have you walked the line recently?” Alice asked.

Harry sighed. “I went up before dinner yesterday. Dick took a walk early in the morning. Nixon’s gone right now.” He shook his head. “Not much has changed. Could do with some more drink though.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure you could. You and me both.”

“Nix not letting you have any of his Vat 69?” 

“He probably would if I asked him,” she admitted. Alice stuck her hands in her pockets and shuddered. “Ack, fuck this cold.”

Harry burst out laughing. Then silence fell again. A yawn escaped her. Rubbing at her stinging eyes, Alice just looked back at her foxhole longingly. But the appearance of Colonel Strayer pulled them both back to attention.

“Lieutenants. Where’s Captain Winters?” he asked.

“Check the supply tent, sir,” said Harry.

As Strayer left them alone, Alice started to let her mind wander again. Exhaustion held her in a state of half-awake pretty much at all times these past two days. A sudden cough escaped her as she breathed right into a gust of wind. Her chest screamed at the action. Alice cursed as she got a hold of her breathing.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Harry commented, helping her stand back up. “How long has it been doing that?”

She shrugged him off. “It’s nothing new. Cold weather does this to me. Always has.” With a glare, she turned straight to him. “Keep it between us, alright? I’ll bring it to Gene’s attention if it gets worse.” What she said wasn’t entirely true. She’d gotten coughs in cold weather before, especially in the Alps, but here it felt worse.

Harry didn’t like the idea. But he knew arguing with her would do nothing. “Fine.”

They turned towards the entrance of the CP at the sound of two voices and the smell of cigarettes. Ron and Nixon walked next to each other, both smoking. They seemed to be comparing notes.

Harry moved towards them. “The line?”

Both looked up at him, and then Alice as she moved over. Nixon holstered his pistol and shrugged. “I walked up to the 502nd on the left flank. Everything’s in order.”

“What are you doing back here,” Alice asked Ron, walking over to him.

As he folded a piece of paper, he just shrugged. It went back in his pocket. Removing his cigarette, he looked around. “Patrol report for Winters. Figured I’d bring it myself. I could use the walk.”

She just hummed back in acknowledgement. They all stood for a moment in the quiet stillness. Alice closed her eyes, trying to absorb what smoke she could from Ron’s cigarette. When he moved away to find Dick, she had to physically stop herself from whimpering.

The day carried on in a similar fashion. Alice felt so tired that she sorely lacked self control. At one point, after walking the line along Easy’s right flank to find the 501st, she came back to the CP and sat down in the snow. Nixon found her a few minutes later on her back. It took her several minutes before he managed to drag her up.

But at dinner, Dick told them he was going up to Easy’s CP. It only took her all of two seconds to announce she would go with him. Harry and Nixon soon volunteered as well. Unspoken but palpable, they all still held a deep connection to Easy.

When they got up there, she found the men from First and a few from the other platoons huddled in a line around Joe Domingus, fighting for the meager supper of beans and boiled water. Dick went straight to join them, clapping hands on shoulders and seeking out the squad leaders. Nixon and Harry found Buck. But Alice watched them carefully. 

Instantly she found the person she’d been most concerned over. Gene sat against a tree, staring straight ahead. Her heart broke. The past few days had seen a drastic change in him. Although, she supposed it wasn’t so drastic. Even in Holland he’d been more and more stressed, and less and less talkative. Not that she could blame him. Alice thought he and the other medics had the hardest jobs of all. 

They didn’t take lives, but they had to try to save them. And in a war, the rule was that young men died. No one could change that rule, no matter how hard they tried. Bullets and mortars and artillery shells held more power than the hands of a medic or a surgeon

After she saw Babe, who looked remarkably better, hand Gene food, she made her way over. Alice slid down to sit next to him, ignoring the freezing snow under her. She didn’t say anything, just sat with him.

Moments later, a jeep roarded up to Easy’s CP. Out jumped Colonel Sink. He didn’t skip a beat before greeting Easy Company. When he mentioned preferring the food the enlisted had to eat over fancy turkey and alcohol, they brightened up considerably. Alice had to smile at Sink’s morale boost. 

She saw him exchange words with Dick before he turned back to Easy. The men had stopped crowding for food and stood back in respect for the Colonel. Sink looked around and nodded. 

“General McAuliffe wishes us all a merry christmas. Now what’s ‘merry’ about all this you ask? Just this: we’ve stopped cold everything that’s been thrown at us, from the North, East, South, and West.” As he paused, the men started nodding into their scarves and shuffling in place. He continued. “Now, two days ago the German commander demanded our honorable surrender to save the USA encircled troops from total annihilation. The German commander received the following reply. ‘To the German Commander: Nuts!’”

The entire weary and depressed company broke down laughing. Even Alice had to smile at how completely and totally American that reply was. Brash, to the point, effective. Risking a glance to her left, though, her smile fell when she saw that Gene didn’t seem to be listening.

“We’re giving our country and our loved ones at home a worthy Christmas present, and being privileged to take part in this gallant feat of arms, we’re truly making ourselves a Merry Christmas.” Sink folded up the paper gently and pushed it into his breast pocket. “Merry Christmas to you all. And God bless you.”

The gathered men echoed his sentiments before some started making fun of the response to the Germans by going around shouting “nuts.” Alice watched them with a sad smile. In addition to being worried for Gene, a pit formed in her stomach whenever she looked at the other faces gathered. 

“Gene,” she ventured a moment later. When he turned to look at her, she flashed him a small smile. “Joyeux Noël, mon ami.”

He nodded, looking down for a moment before responding. “Joyeux Noël, cherie.”

After a moment, she sighed. “Qu'est-ce que tu veux pour Noël?”

“Je veux ce que nous voulons tous.” He sighed. “Mais, nous ne pouvons pas.”

Alice fell silent. Yes, they all wanted the same thing. They wanted an end to the war. They wanted to go home. They wanted to never see another bullet wound or severed limb or pierced artery ever again. Guilt crashed into her instantly. She wanted that too, of course. But to get home meant forcing these men, these friends and family of hers, to suffer and perhaps die. The hypocrisy didn’t escape her.

Was there logic in sacrifice? What right did she have, to ask these men to die so that her own people could live? Before she knew what she was doing, Alice had shot up from her seat. She felt dizzy, nauseous. She leaned against a tree a few meters away, back to the Christmas dinner. What right did she have? 

“You look about as white as the snow.”

Alice turned, trying to straighten up, when George Luz approached her a few minutes later. She shrugged, desperately trying to calm down. She knew he could see right through it.” 

“You all right?” George looked at her closer. “Alice?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, voice low. “I just…”

“Thinking too much?” he ventured. 

Alice let out a tiny laugh. “Yes. Yeah I guess you could say that.”

“Wasn’t a hard guess,” he teased. “Come on. Sun’ll be down soon. Pretty sure the Captains would have our heads if you got lost up on the line.”

“George, I’m not going to get lost,” she argued. 

He snorted but shook his head. “Go. Winters and Nixon and Welsh are all heading back now.”

With a small frown, she sighed. Relenting, she turned from the tree and started back with him towards Easy’s CP. “Hey, George, do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Keep an eye on Gene, please.”

He sighed, nodding. “I noticed Doc looked a little tired.”

“Oh.” She paused, reaching into her pocket of her pants. Pulling out a packet of cigarettes, she passed it to George. “Here. Feel free to give these out.”

She didn’t say anything further. Soon enough they stood back in the center of the CP. Alice said goodnights and Merry Christmases to the men before heading back with the other officers. She put on her brightest smile she could manage. 

Alice ended up grabbing an hour nap when they got back to the CP. Harry had gone for a small walk on the line and both Dick and Nixon had disappeared somewhere. Hauling herself out of her foxhole, she ended up in the small intelligence tent. Using a chair instead of sitting on the freezing, wet snow improved her mood considerably. 

The coffee seemed to have disappeared along with the other officers. With a groan, she huddled in on herself, grabbing at her middle and trying to get as small as possible on the wooden chair. Her nose stung terribly and when she could feel her fingers, all she felt was pain. The small tent, more of a lean to structure with some camouflage netting, did nothing to reduce the wind or the cold. Head under her arms and pressed against her legs, she let out an angry groan.

“Cold?”

Alice looked up. Nixon stood leaning in the small doorway of the structure. He’d clearly given up trying to shave as soon as they’d set up shop in Bastogne. The previous day she’d joked that he looked like some sort of barbarian. He’d just laughed it off. In his hands he held two metal food cups. 

“Freezing,” she eventually corrected him. “Are you not?”

Nixon shrugged. He flashed her a small smile, moving inside to sit at one of the other small wooden chairs around the table. Suddenly she found one of the two cups in front of her. Alice looked at it in confusion. It looked like golden-brown half-melted snow. She’d heard Bill and Babe both talk about a dessert called “water ice” which seemed remarkably like what was before her.

“Happy birthday,” he added. 

Alice’s eyes widened as she looked from the snow thing to Nixon. She opened her mouth and closed it. “That’s today.”

“You forgot?” Nixon grinned. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did.” The fact that he had remembered made her stomach twist up in knots. Alice thanked God that she was already so cold that her face glowed red before blushing. “Thank you, Nix.”

He shrugged. “You only turn twenty-four once.”

“Getting old,” she muttered, but a smile betrayed her joke.

Nixon laughed a little. “Yeah, what does that make me then?”

“Also getting old,” she joked. With a smile and shake of her head, she looked at the frozen thing before her and scooted her chair towards the table. “Care to explain this?”

“A Vat 69 snowcone. Only the best,” he said.

This time, Alice laughed. “Oh yeah, what’s in it?”

“Vat 69 and snow,” he quipped. “But if you don’t want it-”

“Hey!” Alice objected as he reached over for it. “No, I want it.” Before he could grab it, she pulled it off the table. No spoons called for desperate measures. She ate some of it straight out of the metal cup. Instantly she grinned at him. “Not bad, Nix, not bad.”

He shrugged. “I had to learn how to cook, remember.”

She sighed. “How’s Blanche? Did you hear from her before we left France?”

“She’ll be fine. She always is.”

They sat in silence for a little longer. Only the sound of chewing liquor-covered snow made any noise around them. It felt nice to have the taste of Vat 69 again. 

But after a moment, they both paused. The smell of burning wood wafted their way. They exchanged confused glances.

“Who’s stupid enough to light a fire right now,” Alice asked. 

They had both already put their cups down and started out into the CP. Following the smell and soon the sound, they came upon Dick, Harry, and Peacock huddled around a small fire. Alice shook her head but Nixon kept walking.

“I swear I thought I could smell a fire.” He looked down and saw it. “I did smell a fire. Are you out of your minds?”

But even as he criticized them, it didn’t escape Alice, or any of them, that he moved into the circle to warm his hands. Alice shook her head. But she moved closer.

“Well, we’re in a dell.” 

At Dick’s strange and borderline sarcastic explanation, Alice saw him look at Harry. The other man just gave a tiny shrug. Neither she nor Nixon understood what he meant. In fact, Alice had never heard that particular english word.

“I swear, I work with the craziest people in the whole American army,” Alice muttered. She moved a bit closer, aching for the warmth the fire threw out but nervous about the exposure. 

“Don’t act surprised,” Harry quipped back. His voice shook in the cold. “You knew this all along.”

As they all laughed under their breaths, even Peacock, she just smiled and shook her head. Another few moments passed. Then, on the edge of hearing but rapidly closing in, the tell tale whistle of a mortar round cut through the quiet forest.

“Down!”

Alice threw herself back to the ground even as Dick shouted the command. All of them managed to get a few feet away, except Harry. He shouted in pain. Instantly Dick gave orders. As he scrambled to the writhing Harry, he turned to the others. “Peacock! Put that out!”

Alice, scrambling up, ears ringing, looked at Harry and Dick. As she heard Nixon on a radio calling for a jeep to the 2nd Battalion CP, she started calling for a medic. Then she scrambled over to her wounded friend.

“Harry, look at me,” she started. “Hey, look at me. You’re going to be okay,” she assured him. Alice grabbed his hand. His tight grip hurt a bit, but as Dick tried to get at the shell fragment, she just smiled down. “Hey, it’s ok.”

“Doc!” Dick shouted. Then he turned back. “Stay still, Harry.”

Harry released several expletives between groans. Her heart hurt to hear him so distraught, to see him writing in the snow that grew progressively more red as time passed. So with her other hand she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Shh, Harry, it’s okay. I promise, you’re going to be fine.” She glanced back behind her, towards where she knew Gene had set up his foxhole. His absence worried her almost as much as the blood pouring from Harry Welsh. 

Finally, after she turned back to Harry and continued to calm him down, they heard running footsteps. She, Nixon, and Dick all looked over. Gene came over. But then he stopped. He looked at them, freezing. Her heart sank into her boot. 

“Gene!” She said it loud enough to jerk him out of his stupor even as Dick tried the same.

Instantly, whatever fog had descended over the medic lifted. He skidded beside Harry, his eyes taking in every detail he could. With a sulfa packet between his lips, he tore at Harry’s shredded pants to open up the area to the wound on his thigh. Alice scooted away to give him space.

“Towel,” he half asked, half demanded.

Dick nodded. “Sure.”

She watched Gene take it and dab at the blood coming from the wound. With it as dry as it was going to get, he tore at the sulfa and started spreading it. Harry hissed in pain.

“I got morphine in my pocket. Give it to him,” Gene ordered. While he tied the bandage up, Dick asked where to administer it. “Opposite thigh.”

Dick did so. It only took a moment before relief started to spread across Harry’s expression. Soon enough he started to lose consciousness. After ordering them to elevate his head, Gene reached towards him with his bloody hands. He wrote an ‘M’ in blood on his forehead.

The jeep had arrived. Peacock, Nixon, Dick, and the driver grabbed a hold of Harry. Hoisting him between them, he was moved to the jeep. But Alice stayed on the ground. She watched Gene carefully, frowning. He didn’t look at her. Instead he just tried to get his breathing under control.

“Eugene,” Dick started. As he knelt near the man, he made eye contact first with Alice and then with the back of the medic. “Get yourself into town. Get a hot meal.”

The fact that Gene didn’t protest spoke volumes to Alice. As the medic stumbled back towards the jeep, she shot up. “Dick, I’m going with him.” Her tone left absolutely no room for negotiation.

He nodded. She hurried over to the jeep and leapt up behind Gene and next to Harry’s head. The wounded man slept peacefully, starkly contrasting his cries of pain from not five minutes earlier. Gene hadn’t even turned around when she got up.

When the jeep roared into Bastogne, Alice genuinely considered whether or not the day could get any worse. Overhead, German planes dropped bombs into the town, onto the civilians of Bastogne. Houses became engulfed in flames, others tumbling to pieces. As soon as Gene leapt from the jeep, though, she followed. 

Screaming of people and anti-aircraft guns filled the air. The steady thump-thump-thump of each pulse like a heartbeat. It reminded her instantly of Eindhoven. After pausing for a brief moment in wonder at the sight, she cursed. Gene had gotten ahead of her. They came upon the aid station only to see it crumble.

Her heart stopped.

She half registered Gene going towards the entrance. The horrible thought that Smokey, or Skinny, or the nurse Renee had been crushed or asphyxiated by the smoke made her sick. She grabbed a brick wall to her right for support. Dozens of wounded men had been in that church. Half a dozen medical workers, too.

The next couple hours passed in a blur. She and Gene got conscripted into the defense of the wounded they had managed to get out in time. It took all her strength not to burst into tears at the sight of Smokey and Skinny. The latter kept objecting to staying put, and she had to yell at him repeatedly.

When at last the air raid had passed and the medics and soldiers could rest, there were only a few hours until dawn. Alice collapsed on the ground, face covered in soot and blood from both herself and others. With her eyes closed, she lay her head back against a wall. Tears began to cut through the grime on her cheeks.

“Alice,” Gene murmured a few minutes later. He collapsed in front of her.

She opened her eyes. “Gene. Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond right away. “I’ll live,” he finally replied. With a sigh, he shook his head. “I’m tired, is all.”

“You should be,” she agreed. “You do more for Easy than anyone.”

“I dunno about that.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she muttered.

Gene sighed again, taking another deep breath. “We should clean you up.”

Alice forced her eyes back open, moving her head to look at him. She stayed against the wall, but forced a tiny hint of a smile. “You don’t look too good, either.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll start with you.”

Before long, Gene had pulled out a bandage from his aid kit. Pouring water from his canteen over it, he started dabbing at her face. Normally, Alice would’ve insisted on doing it herself, but in the dark of the destroyed Bastogne, covered in blood from the wounded and her own body, exhausted by the death around her, she just let Gene do his thing.

“Who’d you go looking for, Gene? In the aid station.”

He paused. Gene met Alice’s gaze after a moment. “There was a nurse there, from Bastogne.”

“Renee,” Alice assumed. When he nodded, she sighed. “You knew her?”

He shrugged and kept trying to get the caked dirt off her. “Met her, more like. She reminded me of my grandma. Her touch calmed anyone in pain.” With a sigh, he poured more water onto the bandage. “Renee just... looked sad, you know? I wish she could’a seen how important her work was.”

She frowned at him. He looked so incredibly defeated. His shoulders shrugged and he had recoiled into himself. “Gene, you can’t save everyone.”

“Yeah, I know.” After another few moments of staring at the wall, or, past it into whatever memories he held, he looked back at her. “I know.”

They spent another half an hour resting and trying to clean up. After he had managed to clean her face and get at the cuts she’d received that night, she did the same for him. Mostly they went about the work in silence, but she hoped that her presence would be enough to keep him on track. With a last look at the smoking city of Bastogne in the rising sun, they flagged down a jeep for the 506th. 


	7. Chapter 7

Her feet dragged through the snow as she walked from where the jeep dropped her off into the Battalion CP. The sun hadn’t even fully risen yet. The cuts on her face, especially the one above her left eye, made her skin feel tight as she yawned. It took serious thought to make her feet lift above the snow drifts.

The CP stood quiet. No one moved around, a surprise to her. Usually someone was up before the sun. Taking a few moments to just breathe, Alice slipped her helmet off. It hung by her side. A gust of wind forced her to turn her face away, trying not to freeze. She sputtered as she attempted, poorly, to suppress her cough.

Muscle memory took her towards the Intelligence tent. Everything looked the same as the hour before the bombing. Even her mostly melted Vat 69 snow cone still sat at the table. As light began to fill the CP, the lean-to include, she sank down into the wooden chair. Her body absolutely ached, fatigue taking over in a way it hadn’t perhaps ever before. The cold, the lack of sleep, and, she realized, the fact that she hadn’t really eaten anything at all the day before, completely sapped Alice of all energy.

Alice put her arms on the table. Her helmet lay beside her. Shifting the snow cone to the side, she all but collapsed onto her arms. The warmth of her breath in the little crevice of her arms offered a strangely lovely relief from the frigid winds. With the warm air and her steady breathing calming her down, Alice drifted off to sleep.

It was Dick who found her. He moved into the tent, reading a report that Ron had brought from Dog. But the pile of messy, grimey blonde hair on the table made him stop. A mix of relief and disbelief filled him. Reports of the bombing of Bastogne had trickled in throughout the night, but no one had exact casualty counts or names for anyone. He’d seen Gene half an hour before but hadn’t had a chance to flag him down.

With a deep breath, he turned and walked out of the tent. In the center of the CP, Nixon, Ron, and Buck stood around a small pot of coffee. They’d watered it way down, but at least it was something.

“I found her,” Dick said. Gesturing behind to the tent, he took the cup offered from Nixon. “Thanks.”

“She alright?” asked Nixon.

Dick nodded between sips of the watered down coffee. “Looks like it. She fell asleep at the table.”

Handing his cup back to Nixon, he moved towards her foxhole. Blanket in hand, he moved back inside. With the blanket draped over her body, he rejoined the other officers outside. Dick sighed. “How many k rations do we have left? When she wakes up she needs to eat. She didn’t eat dinner with Easy last night.”

Nixon nearly choked on his drink. “What?” When they all looked at him strange, he shook his head. “Well she didn’t eat lunch either. She said she wasn’t hungry.”

The cup left Dick’s mouth. He stared at Nixon first, then back to the tent where Alice slept. He shook his head. “Are you telling me she hasn’t eaten in at least twenty-four hours?”

The half-scoff, half-sigh that came from Ron summed up all their opinions. “That sounds just like her. I swear, how she can be as smart as she is and still be so stupid, I will never understand.”

None of them disagreed with him. Buck just shook his head with a tiny smile. “At least she’s got guts.”

Both Buck and Ron had to return to their companies. It left Nixon and Dick standing in the center of the CP, Strayer back in Bastogne with Sink surveying the damage of the air raid. They inventoried their supplies for rations. It was only when they got ready to sit down to a meager lunch that Alice made an appearance.

The blanket Dick had brought to her wrapped around her body like a cape. Alice had put her helmet back over her head. With droopy eyes and borderline clammy skin, she joined them.

She had to blink against the bright sunlight bouncing off the snow. A shiver passed through her. “Did it get colder? Is that even possible?”

“Sit your ass down, Alice, and eat some goddamn food,” Nixon ordered. 

She didn’t snap back. After tossing her blanket back under the tarp and into her foxhole, she moved over to where they stood eating beans and k rations. With a sigh, she accepted what Dick handed to her. “Thanks.”

After making sure she ate a few bites, Dick asked his first question. “How’s Eugene?” 

Her demeanor changed immediately. Her chewing slowed. Lowering her small spoon, Alice just stared at the ground. “He’s been better. But I think he’s going to be ok.”

Dick just gave a little nod. Both he and Nixon watched her as she picked at her food. After a few minutes of letting her stand, eat, and think, he interrupted her again. “Harry?”

She glanced up at them in confusion. “Oh.” With a nod, she stirred at her beans and shrugged. “He should be alright. But we still can’t evacuate any wounded.”

“Well, at least he’s safe,” Nixon replied.

Finishing up her small meal, Alice handed it back to Nixon who collected all three. It took her a few moments to collect herself. Then she turned to Dick. “I’d like to go up to the line tonight. I want to talk to a few of the men.”

Dick looked at her in concern. “About Doc?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I want to talk to Gene, and Spina.”

From the other side of the center of the CP, Nixon added, “Why Spina?” 

“Well.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I think of everyone up on the line, Spina probably has the best grasp of how Gene is doing right now.” She paused. With another nod, she tried to explain further. “I also want to make sure he’s doing alright, given Gene’s recent behavior.”

Dick looked at her thoughtfully. After a moment he turned away, looking out past the edge of Battalion CP towards the space occupied by Easy Company. Then he nodded. “Right. You can stay up there for the night.” Then he gave her the tiniest smirk. “Just let me know if Dike gives you any trouble.”

Alice nodded. She did her best to not roll her eyes. But with that settled, they got to work on their mid morning tasks. Alice walked the line up to Fox Company with Nixon before lunch, checking on the border with the 502nd. It came as no surprise that everyone looked to be in sour moods. The bombing of Bastogne had done a number on everyone’s morale.

After having lunch, which seemed to give Alice a bit more energy, she grabbed her rifle and pistol and headed towards the Easy Company CP. The wind had died down considerably, much to her relief. But still she found herself attempting to suppress her cough whenever she breathed in too deeply.

Alice came across More, Liebgott, and Alley at the Easy Company CP. The latter both looked to be in moderately high spirits. Alton More looked cold, but the cigarette seemed to be maybe helping with that as they stood in a little circle.

“Well, well, look who showed up,” More said. He nodded to her. “Lieutenant.”

“You three are keeping warm, I hope,” she said, smiling. Picking her way over to the three men, she crossed her arms over her chest to hopefully do the same. “How goes it up here?”

“Better than Bastogne,” muttered Alley.

Her smile fell. “Yeah. I was there last night.”

“What the fuck were you doing there,” Liebgott demanded. “Jesus. In the middle of the air raid?”

“Lieutenant Welsh got hit. Gene and I took him back to the aid station,” she explained. She shrugged. “Then the aid station got hit, so we stayed to help the wounded.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lieb muttered. 

“Well, welcome back up to the line,” Alley said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve gotta get back to our hole. C’mon Joe.”

“Yeah.”

More snickered as he threw his cigarette into the snow. “Just keep your singin’ to yourselves, boys.”

The heckling continued between all three as More went right and they went left. Watching them go, she couldn’t but smile a little. Alice shook her head. When Peacock walked up a moment later, she turned to him and nodded. “Peacock.”

“Lieutenant,” he said with a nod. “Have you seen Lieutenant Dike?”

Alice had to suppress a scoff. “No, I’m sorry. He wasn’t at the CP, though.”

“Right.” 

With a glum expression, he stormed off. If Dike had somehow managed to even annoy Thomas Peacock, who himself had similar issues to Dike, truly the Company Commander had screwed up. With that thought, Alice moved towards the foxholes along the line.

“Well look who it is, everyone’s favorite Lieutenant.”

She heard Alex Penkala before she saw him. But a moment later, he and Bull waved her over from a foxhole. She hurried over, kneeling at the edge of their spot. “Keep your voice down, Penk. Don’t make the others feel bad about not being as well liked as me.”

Both Bull and Alex snickered at her joke. The former shrugged before looking out across the line. “Yeah, well, that’s on them. Don’t take much to be liked ‘round here.”

Alice laughed. “Now that isn’t true.”

“What’d’ya mean?” Alex asked.

She turned to him. “Word is, you Toccoa boys aren’t being very inviting to the replacements these days.”

Alex groaned and shook his head. “Look, I’ve already been lectured by Lip-”

“Oh good. So that means you’ll engage with them more. My work here is done.” She stood back up. “Bull already put in his time with the new kids. I expect to hear you did some of the work too, Alex.” After he groaned, she smirked down at them again. Turning first to Bull, and then to Penkala, she smiled. “Now, how’s your arm doing? Gene said you’d been hit.”

“Barely a scratch,” boasted Alex.

Bull snorted. “That so? Shit, you was squealin’ like a piglet when it happened, Penky.”

Her laughter exploded before she could contain herself. While Alex just glared at Bull Randleman and then at her, she struggled to get a hold of herself. Bull looked smug as he took a Lucky Strike from his pocket and lit it, out of his cigars.

“Hey! Quit it. I thought it hit the artery, ok?” he rolled his eyes and settled further into the foxhole. “Goddamn it.”

“And on that note, I’ll leave you two to your work,” Alice said. 

Her eyes watered as she backed away. Once she got a ways away from any foxholes, her cough took over. The laughter hurt more than a gust of wind. Alice collapsed to her knees and grabbed a tree. “Scheisse.” Another cough wrecked her body. “Verdammt!” She eased herself against the tree and took a few breaths. Snow had gotten into her jacket. All the mirth she’d felt a minute before melted away instantly.

After sitting in the cold snow for a couple moments, her gloves thoroughly soaked through and her feet frozen even through her leather boots, she pushed herself up. She took a few hesitant deep breaths. Her lungs sounded clear. She breathed deeper. Still clear. 

“How long have you been coughin' like that?” 

Even confined to her helmet, her hair whipped into her cheeks when Spina spoke up from her right. He walked over to her. His eyes scanned her up and down. Just like Gene. Must’ve been a medic thing.

“It started up towards the end of our stay in Mourmelon-le-Grand,” Alice admitted as he came to stand next to her. “I’m used to getting a cough in the cold. This only feels a little worse.”

“Hm, well, cough for me.”

She frowned. 

“Come on, Alice. Or would you rather Gene be the one to discover you’ve gotta cough like that.”

As she frowned again, even deeper, he just sent her a smile. They both knew he’d won with that comment alone. Both knew how protective Gene got over his patients, especially anyone he considered a close friend. Those were few and far between, but Alice definitely counted among them.

So she coughed. It hurt, the movement of the cold air through her throat and lungs. Spina looked at her again. 

“Well, it ain’t as bad as it could be. But you gotta watch it, right? Lemme know if it gets worse.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered sarcastically.

Spina cracked up. “Now, you looking for Gene?”

“Gene and you actually.”

“Yeah, why’s that?” 

The two of them started off towards what she presumed was his foxhole. The snow crunched beneath their feet. It had been a couple days since the last snowfall, but the ice and frost reformed every night. Now, as the sun began to sink a little lower in the sky, the cold increased.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” she ventured. “And ask if Gene had been normal today.”

Spina cracked up. “Normal? What’s normal these days, Lieutenant?” He shook his head. As they reached a large foxhole, he slipped inside. When she followed, he shrugged. “You know what he’s like. I think we’re all done playin’ doctor.”

Alice frowned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“He spent a while up near the OP with Babe. I don’ know where he is now,” Spina took his canteen out and downed a large drink. “I think all those trips into town did more harm than good.”

“Have you ever gone in,” Alice asked.

He shook his head. “Nah. Gene always went in, insisted he could do it ‘imself. But I heard stuff from one of Dog’s medics. Said it looked like a graveyard.”

“It’s not pretty,” she admitted after a moment. Taking a drink from her own canteen, Alice wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. A bit of dirt scraped against her skin and she grimaced. “They line the dead up along the sides of the main road. The ground is too cold to dig graves, and they can’t burn them.”

“I hate this whole fucking thing,” Spina said. He shook his head, lying a bit further back into the foxhole. The last rays of the sun broke through some of the cloud cover and he sighed. “You stayin’ the night?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Gene might fight ya’ for his spot, though, if he ends up back here.”

With a tight smile, she nodded. Another few minutes passed, Spina going through his medical supplies with the last bit of daylight. After a minute, she spoke up again.

“Spina, you didn’t answer my first question.”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“How are you doing?”

He stopped rummaging through his pack. With a sigh, he just shrugged. Spina looked over at her. “Hanging in there.”

“Right.” Hoping her small smile would bring some comfort, she looked him in the eyes. “Well, don’t worry about coming to me for something to avoid Foxhole Norman.”

At the use of the Company Commander’s moniker, he snorted and shot her a smile. He agreed. With the sun setting below the horizon and the darkness overtaking the forest, they settled back. Silence reigned. Both tried to get as much sleep as possible.


	8. Chapter 8

  
The sun hitting her face woke Alice up the next morning. It took several minutes before she willingly blinked open her eyes, and another minute before she moved any other part of her body. A fresh dusting of snow had settled everywhere, on the ground, in the foxhole, even over her fatigues. As she moved to sit up straighter, the snow fell from her olive drab.

“Hey cherie,” Gene said with a nod. He cracked a small smile at her surprise. “Spina and I switched a couple hours ago.”

“What’s the time?” she muttered. The scratchiness in her voice surprised her. As she readjusted, Alice pulled out her canteen. The freezing cold water made her shiver.

Gene looked at his watch. “0920. You slept like the dead.”

“If only,” she muttered. 

Alice maneuvered herself to look out over the Ardennes. The medics’ foxhole sat a little ways back from the front of the line. Peering through the trees, even in the sunlight, Alice couldn’t see anyone else. She groaned and closed her eyes, sinking further into herself.

“You good, Alice?”

She sighed. “It’s just been a helluva few days, Gene. As you know. I even forgot about my own damn birthday.”

A pause followed. But then Gene spoke up again. “Guess we all kinda forgot, did’n we.”

“It’s fine. Nix remembered,” she said. A tiny smile broke through her pouting. “How could I get mad at anyone forgetting when I forgot about it myself.”

Gene just nodded. After watching her for a moment, he pushed himself out of the foxhole. “I have t’ go check for more morphine.”

“Right. Be safe,” she added.

After watching him disappear through the trees, Alice sighed. The beating of her heart calmed as she focused on her breathing. Each breath hurt a bit more than the one before. The cold air had gone from a wet cold to an extremely dry cold. Somehow that was worse.

Finally, after counting back from ten, Alice pushed herself to her feet. The regret was instantaneous. A groan escaped her before she could react any other way. Pain shot through her legs. Alice stumbled a bit. Fuck foxholes.

Muttering curses under her breath, Alice stalked forward through the snow. She buried her hands beneath her arms across her chest. With each step, the snow crunched louder. 

“Hey, Lieutenant, you’re gonna walk by without even sayin’ good morning?” Talbert said. He winked at her when she turned to look at him. He and Shifty sat in a foxhole, the latter yawning between looking at a letter. “I don’t know what your muttering in German, but my guess is it isn’t pretty.”

Alice sighed but flashed them both a quick smile. Squatting next to their foxhole she laughed. “Didn’t realize I was muttering in German, to be honest.”

“You were,” Talbert said.

“I believe it. Hey Shifty, doesn’t it get annoying, having to sleep with this guy?”

Shifty cracked a smile and laughed under his breath. Even as Talbert protested, Shifty just shook his head. “He ain’t too bad, Lieutenant.”

“Well good. You two watch yourselves, ok?” 

When they had both nodded at her, Shifty much more seriously than Floyd Talbert, Alice left them. Her feet kept going even when Alice lost track of what exactly she wanted to do on the line. She said hello to Perconte and Christenson, then ran into Mampre and McClung as they came back to their foxhole from a late breakfast. When she finally reached the Easy CP around lunch.

“There she is.” Buck Compton stood with Bill Guarnere, George Luz, and Joe Toye around a coffee pot. As they all turned to look, he waved her over. “Come here.”

Alice narrowed her eyes. But she did as asked. George Luz handed her a cup and she accepted it gratefully. “You needed me?”

“It came to our attention,” Buck started, “that your birthday just passed.”

The noise that escaped her was half a laugh and half a scoff. Gene Roe. No doubt he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. “It really doesn’t matter. There are much more important things to think about than me getting a year older.”

“Not true,” George argued. “This is the perfect opportunity for a birthday to remember.”

“But-”

“Fucking hell,” Joe muttered.

At the same moment, Bill scoffed. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. If we want to celebrate, let us fuckin’ celebrate.”

The unhappy stare she sent them all made all four of them laugh. But she knew she was beaten. One of them she could’ve handled. Maybe even two, unless it was a combination of Bill and George. Those two were unappeasable. The four of them together? Trying to get through them would be like trying to dig through a brick wall with a straw.

Finally she turned her sarcastic glare on George Luz. “A birthday to remember?”

His grin stretched all the way across his face. He pointed around them. “Yeah, what other birthday are you gonna be in foxholes in a frozen forest getting shot at?”

“Hm. Exciting. Tell me more,” she muttered at him around her cup of lukewarm, watered down coffee. 

“Ok, so, it’s not ideal,” Buck admitted.

“What d’ya want us to do,” muttered Bill. “Throw some fucking snowballs? Bake ya' a cake?”

The change in Alice was instantaneous. Her smile widened so far she tried to hide it with her cup but she couldn’t. After a moment she resorted to just covering her face with her hand, desperately trying to stave off the ridiculous grin and giggling at the thought. And also at the memories the mention of snowball fighting brought up.

“You alright?” Joe looked at her in concern.

But she couldn’t stop the laughter, no matter how hard she tried. Even as Alice clasped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes, trying so desperately to control herself, the memory of having a snowball fight with Dick, Nix, and Ron in New Jersey in the States had her in stitches. She sank down into a crouch, still trying to stop herself around these men. That attempt failed, miserably.

“Holy shit, are you ok? Are you crying?” George looked at her in concern.

She was, in fact, crying. Except her tears were from suppressed laughter. She tried to explain through her tears and laughter, but she couldn’t.

“What the fuck did you do, Gonorrhea?” Joe turned to Bill furiously. 

Bill threw his hands in the air. “I’ve no fucking clue! I didn’t do anything! Jesus!”

“It’s not him!” Alice gasped, getting a hold of herself a bit. She fell onto the ground, sitting, grabbing her face. “Holy shit. I don’t know-”

“Wait, are you laughing?” Buck asked. When he realized she was dying of laughter, not sadness, he started grinning. 

“Jesus Christ. Gave us a fuckin’ heart attack,” Bill snapped.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry,” she said. 

As Alice tried to calm her breathing and went to stand back up, her cough ripped through her body again. Immediately their mirth turned to concern. But she waved them away. “I’m fine! Goddamnit.” Another cough, and another groaned. “I’m fine. Spina knows about this, before you start yelling at me.”

Joe reached down. He hoisted her up a moment later. Stumbling a moment, she spent a few seconds getting control of her breathing again. Then she shook her head. “I shouldn’t laugh. It makes me cough.” She rounded on Bill. “Damn you.”

“I still don’t know what the fuck I said!”

Despite her best effort, Alice started grinning again. “Snowballs.”

“Come again?” Buck said after they paused in confusion.

Between small giggles that she tried desperately to suppress, she attempted to explain. “Back at Benning, when I went to New York with the officers?” The three enlisted nodded, but Buck looked confused, so she continued on, “Oh Buck. This was before you.”

“She was a fuckin’ traitor and skipped out on Joe and Me going to Philly to hang with the officers,” Bill summed up.”

  
George scoffed. “Please, she would’ve come to Rhode Island instead.”

“Would you two let her fuckin’ talk,” Joe interrupted.

“Thanks, Joe. Nixon, Winters, Speirs, and I went to New Jersey where Nix’s family owns a summer home. Walked around New York City for a few days,” she explained. As she suppressed another laugh, Alice shook her head. Finally she had control again. “I started throwing snowballs at a tree, ranting about Shifty’s perfect aim. And uh, I hadn’t realized Nixon had walked in front of me.”

“You hit Cap’n Nixon with a snowball?” George asked, shocked.

“Yeah. And then he hit me,” she said, smirking. “And then, uh, I hit him again and then somehow or other, Dick got involved, so I made Ron join my team.” Tears spilled from her eyes, freezing her cheeks. She tried to stop laughing. “Ron’s really competitive, so needless to say we won.”

“You had a snowball fight with Lieutenant Speirs?” Buck said, incredulous.

“Hey, listen, I won a snowball fight with Lieutenant Speirs. We won, together, as a team.” She smirked again and looked at them. “Ron took out Dick, and I took out Nixon. With a bit of his help,” she admitted. “But only a little help.”

They stared at her in silence. But as soon as George started snickering, the others joined in. I took several minutes of Alice insisting they keep the story to themselves before they calmed down. Alice meant it.

“I swear, if you breathe a word of this to Ron especially, I will murder you all,” said Alice. Then she turned directly to Bill. “Got it, Guarnere?”

“I ain’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

George snorted. “Yeah, Speirs would murder him before you got your chance.”

“Fucking right,” Joe snickered. “Like D-Day.”

Buck shook his head. “Right, that’s enough. Keep it down.”

“Shutting up,” George quipped.

They spent another ten minutes or so chatting, enjoying each other’s company. Before long though, Buck told Bill and Joe to head back to Second Platoon and see to their men. He went along with them. As they trudged away, she turned to George.

“Gene told you?” she asked quietly.

He smirked. “Yeah.” It only took a moment before he tried to replicate Roe’s accent.

“Not great, but better than I could do,” she teased. For a few moments she just looked at him. He fumbled with his pocket, trying to get a cigarette out. Alice smiled at him. “George?”

“Yeah?” He looked up at her.

“Thanks.”

He smirked. Popping the cigarette in his mouth, George just shrugged. “Eh, I forgot, remember. Thank Doc Roe.”

With a tiny laugh, she nodded. “Ok. I will.” All around them, she heard murmurs of conversations from various foxholes, and the scratching of branches against each other. When she turned back to George, she smiled again. “Birthday to remember, huh?”

“Damn right.”

“Keep out of trouble,” she ordered. “I mean it. Don’t piss Dike off more than you have too, and watch for snipers.”

George snorted. “Go. I’m sure your snowball buddies want you back at Battalion. And quit worrying. This’ll be over soon.”

“Right.”

At the smirk that grew on George Luz’s face, she narrowed her eyes. But he just laughed. “When in doubt, ‘we’ll always have Paris’,” he said.

“Anything but that movie,” she moaned. Throwing her hands in the air, she started hurrying back to the CP.

George started snickering. Taking his cigarette out, he called after her with another quote. “Here’s looking at you, kid!”

“I’m older than you, George!” she called back, not turning around.

If he made any response, it got blown away with the wind. When she reached the Battalion CP, her mood was a lot better than it had been before. Trust them to be able to do that. With lunch waiting, she dug into her pathetically meager meal without protest. Time to get busy.


	9. Chapter 9

**December 27, 1944**

Never had Alice been so glad to hear Patton’s name as when she woke on the 27th to news that the siege had broken. With the supply routes clear and evacuation possible, Alice spent the majority of the day in Bastogne itself, getting wounded prepped to go and assisting Nixon with gathering information from the 3rd Army.

The evacuation of the wounded improved her mood dramatically. Harry and Smokey got removed to a real hospital. Skinny, doing meaningfully better, stayed. Alice chewed him out for it, but the medics agreed he’d be able to return to combat soon enough. His smirk had somehow managed to both infuriate and amuse her.

She thanked God for the 3rd Army. Of course, if anyone had asked for her opinion on the matter, she’d have denied it. Not for her pride, but for the pride of the men on the line and the wounded themselves. Most of the enlisted had never set foot in Bastogne, hadn’t seen how truly desperate life had become for civilians and soldiers alike. She understood why the men on the front lines refused to admit they’d needed help. If anyone asked, she would say they hadn’t.

And that was probably true. But breaking the siege at the end of the 26th of December did a lot more for morale than the time it would’ve taken for the 101st alone, so she didn’t complain. Only a fool would refuse assistance. Well, a fool or a paratrooper.

When Alice returned to the CP by way of a jeep, the light of the evening had started to fade. She found it empty. No one in foxholes, no one in the tents. A gentle silence fell around the whole area. Alice found her mind drifting. As she stood, body as still as the trees around her, she gazed at the snow on the ground.

Suddenly, with the siege broken and the battle going much better for her allies, the snow felt less like a terrible threat, and more like a blanket of purity all around her. Despite her body trembling from the cold, she smiled. Not a big smile, but a gentle one. A genuine small smile at the quiet around her.

As she reached down and cupped the snow in her thinly-gloved hands, she closed her eyes. Any part of her skin that the gloves didn’t cover burned. The way snow could burn, the dichotomy of such a prospect, stopped her in her tracks for a moment. It felt nice, thinking about mundane things instead of who would get hit next. 

Nostalgia crashed over her as she moulded the snow into a ball. It packed well. Another smile graced her features. No more dry snow. Now it was wetter, warmer perhaps. Alice took a deep breath as she gazed down at the ball of snow in her hands. The burning had turned to numbness.

With another small smile, Alice lowered herself to the ground. Exhaustion consumed her. The day’s activities had drained her of energy. Sitting in the snow, she placed the little snowball in front of her and started packing more on to it.

Before she really realized what she was doing, Alice had built a small snowman. The emotions the sight conjured up were all sorts of contradictory and yet somehow, appropriate. The melancholic nostalgia, a sort of bittersweet sentimentality, gripped at her voice and kept her quiet as she looked at the three balls of snow that had formed a little snowman.

Only when someone came and crouched next to her did Alice take her eyes away from the snowman. It took all of half a second for her to know it was Nixon. Intuition, perhaps. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and as her thoughts were pulled away from her rabbit hole of musings, she turned and looked at him. 

Nixon turned from her to the snowman. After he took a sip at his flask, he shrugged. “It’s a little small.”

A tiny laugh broke through her silence. “I wouldn’t want to scare you, if you’d walk into the CP and found a stranger made of snow in the middle of the area.”

He stood back up. “Thoughtful. Might’ve shot it.” 

“Never can tell with you.” She accepted his help to stand up off the ground. Her legs and backside were completely frozen from sitting in the snow for however long she’d been there.

Nixon smirked again. “Oh yes, me and my renowned itchy trigger finger.”

The way he’d said it caused her to snicker. But when Nixon raised his foot to push at the snowman she smacked his arm. “Hey! Stop.” Alice frowned at him, crouching down again to look in it’s little face. “It didn’t do anything to you.”

He didn’t laugh. For a moment he just watched her, crouched before the small snowman, and wondered about this version of Alice Klein. He’d gotten so used to the Alice who spent her time coming up with sassy remarks or smirking when she could show off her aim. Suddenly the thought that maybe this was a small look at Alice before the war, before that night in Paris, before the Maquis, made his breath catch. She’d talked about leaving her old name behind, about how that person did not exist anymore. But Nixon had always doubted that. And suddenly, watching Alice smile at the small snowman, a piece of innocence in the midst of proof of the horrors mankind was capable of, what he suspected had finally been confirmed. Adelaide Klein was still in there.

For the first time in a very long time, Nixon didn’t know what to say. He replayed in his mind all the interactions he could remember, back to Toccoa up to the present moment. He’d never doubted her incredible capacity to love, to support another. Usually she did so with restraint. Her ability to hide herself had impressed him from day one. The way she could say exactly what she felt, telling no lie, and still have said absolutely nothing at all had been what caught his attention in the first place. 

That, and the fact that she was a woman from Europe training to be an American paratrooper. 

Dick spoke often of her helpfulness with the men. That had gone all the way back to Toccoa, too. He’d heard about, rather than seen, how she’d helped Docs Roe and Spina care for the sick platoons. Both he and Dick had even talked about how she’d have made a good medic.

If the war had been kinder, maybe she’d have done that. But she’d learned how to shoot a gun too well to go back to patching up wounds. Then again, he supposed, if the war had been kinder, she’d be back in Paris with her brothers, and her sister, and her parents. Instead she was crouched in front of a foot tall little snowman in the middle of the war torn Ardennes.

“Hey, have you two eaten?”

At Dick’s voice, both of them turned around. He strode over to them. It took a moment for him to register the snowman in the dark, but when he did, Dick just looked from it, to her, to him. He said nothing.

“I have, yeah,” Nixon replied. He felt oddly relieved to have been interrupted by his best friend. “Alice?”

She stood and nodded, yawning. “Yeah.”

“Good.” With a sigh, he shrugged. “Strayer wanted us to go over some more reports from Patton.”

With something more to do, all three of them relocated into one of the small tents. Wooden chairs were more comfortable than frozen ground. Before long they dug into the combat reports, maps, casualty numbers, and supply lists from the 3rd Army and the 506th, trying to come up with some plan for the next move to send up to Strayer and Sink.

By the light of two oil lamps, they slaved on for several hours. Numbers and letters blurred together. Around 2200 hours, Alice leaned back in her chair and yawned. She shook her head. “I need a break.”

Nixon snorted. “You can say that again.” As soon as Alice got up from her spot and went over to another seat inside the tent for a change of scenery, he propped his feet up on her vacant chair. One drink later, he’d dropped the papers back to the table and shook his head. “We’re going to get nowhere when we’re this tired. We need a distraction.”

Dick frowned, but he agreed. “Fine.” He sat back as well and put his reports down. “What’d you have in mind? And no drinking games.”

“Tu Préfères.” They both turned to her, and she hesitated. “I don’t know the English name, if you have this game. Um, it’s a game of choices. You give someone two options, and they have to choose between them.”

Both of them smiled, Nixon actually grinning. He nodded. “Would you Rather.”

“Would you rather,” Alice said slowly. “That’s a good name.”

“Ok, I’ll start,” Nixon said. He took a cup of now cold coffee from the table. “Dick, would you rather swim across the Rhine, or manage the whole Division?”

At the same moment that Alice snorted into her drink, Dick just sighed. “Are there Germans on the Rhine?”

“Hm, not if you’re careful.”

“I’ll take the swim,” he muttered.

They traded questions for a while, all of them fairly harmless. But eventually Dick saw that they’d never be getting back to work. Leaving them to sleep, convinced they’d be at it for much longer than he intended, Dick just said goodnight quietly. This left Nixon and Alice.

They sat opposite each other. With Dick gone, Alice dragged his chair over so she had a footrest as well. One oil lamp lit the tent structure, poorly at that, but she didn’t mind. With Dick gone, it was Nixon’s turn. Alice closed her eyes.

“Ok. Would you rather live in Paris or Hamburg after the war.”

She gave a tiny sigh. Once she’d opened her eyes, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I would love to return to Germany. I spent 14 years there.”

“So Hamburg?”

“Fine, I’ll go with Hamburg. But I think I’d prefer the country.” She paused, thinking up her question. “Alright, Nix. Would you rather never smoke again, or never be able to drink Vat 69?”

“What an awful question,” he muttered. “Never smoke.” It took him several moments to come up with his next question. He leaned back again. “Would you rather go back and never join the paratroopers, or keep things as they are?”

The effect was instantaneous. She straightened in her seat. Alice’s arms crossed over her chest in some form of self protection or comfort. But she didn’t refuse to answer. Instead she just considered her choices in silence.

“I think,” she began, “I think that I would stay here. I’ve made too many friendships here, too many bonds with the people in Easy, to throw that away. Everyone from Toccoa,” she added. “All of you, I couldn’t throw that away.”

It took a moment for her to glance back over at him. When she did, she could see him thinking. Usually it made her smile, the fact that she could practically see the wheels turning inside his brain. They’d made Nix the S-2 for a reason. And even if he was able to mask it, balance it with jokes and alcohol, he was far from stupid. In fact, she thought he was sometimes a bit too observant.

“My turn,” she said. Alice leaned forward, taking her legs off the seat across from her. If he wanted to play this game, the game within the game, she could too. If he wanted to use this to pick her brain, then she’d have just as much fun. “Would you rather be from a family with no name and no money, but have no expectations placed on you? Or, be a Nixon.”

The moment he heard the question, Alice watched him release a breath. Next came the drink of Vat 69 that she’d also been expecting. The silence, however, came as a surprise. She’d anticipated some sort of biting remark between hearing the question and forming an answer. Instead she was met with silence.

“It’d be a lot harder to find endless Vat 69 if I wasn’t a Nixon,” he pointed out with a smirk. 

His cheeky wink did nothing to fool her, but Alice said nothing more as he downed a large drink. After another moment of watching him, she just yawned. Her watch read almost midnight. With a brief stretch, she pushed in her chairs. “I better go sleep.”

“Right. Don’t let the frostbite bite,” he said.

Alice laughed under her breath. Leaving him to his musings, she slipped out of the tent and strolled through the CP. She passed two corporals on their way to somewhere. They chatted quietly. Soon enough she stood before her foxhole. After slipping beneath the tarp, she yawned again. The cold air irritated her lungs and she suppressed a few coughs into her blanket. Finally, with thoughts of home in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**January 2, 1945**

Two in the afternoon, and Alice's head still hurt. Not only did her head hurt, but her chest hurt, and her eyes hurt, and overall she felt horrible. She held Nixon responsible. If he hadn't broken out an entire bottle of Vat 69 to celebrate the New Year, she'd not be in so much pain.

Dick hadn't said anything. But she knew, based on the way he looked at her every so often where they sat inside a tent, that he disapproved. Not that he'd been surprised when she'd crawled out of her foxhole with a hangover.

In her defense, Strayer had joined them for a little while, and so had Sink. They'd enjoyed the Vat 69 as much as the next man. Except, of course, for herself and Nixon. They'd had a little more than they should've perhaps.

"Scheisse," she muttered under her breath. A string of curses followed. Her cough still lingered, and somehow it hurt more to suppress it around the officers than to actually cough. The irony of this didn't escape her. Glancing across at Dick, who watched her with a thinly veiled smirk, Alice narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"You're muttering in German again," Dick said.

"Oh."

Nixon, who sat near Dick and worked on heating up some coffee, snorted out a laugh. It infuriated her that he could drink more and still not have a bad hangover. She shot him a glare. That morning, temperatures had dropped lower than normal and they could all feel it in their bones. Nixon wasn't helping.

There wasn't much to do. 2nd Battalion had moved forward that morning, Easy Company taking over a large part of the Bois Jacques section of the forest. The casualty reports had come in an hour ago: two wounded, none killed. And Hoobler had managed to kill a German officer, meaning they had gathered a bit of intel as well.

Overall, a win for the Battered Bastards. Alice smirked at the name. She had no idea who had coined it, but once someone started using it, it'd spread like wildfire. A good morale boost, so that even the officers were using it.

"Maybe don't drink so much next time," Nixon muttered around his cup.

"Well maybe-"

Her biting remark was halted by the sudden appearance of Lipton. They all looked up at him. Easy's First Sergeant had a straight face, his gun slung over his shoulders. "Sirs."

Nixon nodded back first. "Hey, Lip."

"What's up," Dick asked.

"We had another casualty," he said. 

Immediately, he had the three officers' complete attention. The two Captains sat up a bit straighter. At Lipton's tone of voice, Alice found herself bracing for the worst. Her breathing came short as he continued.

"The German officer that Hoobler got had a Luger." His shoulders sank. "Hoobs had been wanting once since D-Day," he reminded them. "He, uh, he had it in his pocket when it went off."

"Uh scheisse," Alice muttered. Her hands covered her face for a moment. She knew where this was going.

"He was wearing so many clothes we couldn't tell how bad he was bleeding," he went on to explain. "By the time we got him to the aid station, he was already dead. The bullet cut the main artery in his leg."

Nixon sighed and shook his head. "Ah, hell, Lip. It wouldn't have made a difference if you had known. Cut that main artery in the leg, that's... that's it."

Lipton nodded a couple times. "Yes, sir." With a glance at them, lingering on Alice, he just sighed. "Well, I'm gonna go back, make sure the boys are all dug in, sir."

"Lip." Dick stopped him before he could leave. Despite looking absolutely frozen where he sat, clutching his cup of coffee, he made himself stay calm. "Where's Dike?"

No one missed the mild annoyance and panic that passed over Lipton's face. And though none of them had said it, they all knew why. Foxhole Norman could never be found.

"You wanna see him, sir?" Lipton asked.

Dick shook his head. "No, I just would've expected to get this kind of news from him."

Lipton paused again. "Well I was-- I was there, sir. Figured it may as well be me."

The look that the three officers shared told him just exactly how much they believed that excuse which was to say, not at all. But Dick nodded. With his exit, Alice slammed her coffee cup onto a small wooden table. The other two looked over.

"Dummer bastard," Alice muttered. She shook her head.

Nixon had to suppress a laugh. "Don't think I need a translation for that one."

When she didn't respond, Dick just huffed, shook his head, and sipped his drink. After a long look at her, he turned to Nixon. "You know what Dike's problem is, don't you?"

"Hm?" Nixon shook his head a bit.

With a tiny smirk, Dick huddled closer to his drink and explained. "He's just another one of those arrogant, rich jerks from Yale."

"Oh, God, not another one of those," drawled Nixon.

They both smirked at each other. With a quick glance to the side and behind them, they looked at Alice. She held a murderous expression. So Dick just turned back to Nixon.

"Division's not gonna let me replace him just 'cause I've got a bad feeling about him." Dick shook his head. "Even if they would, who would I put in his place? Shames?"

A scoff from Alice pulled their attention away. She shook her head. "Too loud, he'd get them all shot."

"Yeah, he's seen too many war movies," agreed Dick. "Thinks he has to yell all the time. So, Peacock? God bless him, nobody tries hard but he's not cut out to lead men into combat. I'm not gonna make him company CO if I don't even want him as a platoon leader."

"Peacock is like a mini Dike," she agreed. "Except, nicer. The men hate him almost as much," she added with a grumble.

"So Compton," Nixon pointed out. He glanced at Alice who nodded approvingly, and then turned to Dick.

"He's the only choice," he agreed. "But I want Easy Company to have at least one experienced Platoon leader. Not that it matters anyway, because I can't get rid of Dike!"

They fell silent for a moment. Alice picked at some dry skin on her hands. She knew where she wanted, needed to be, and it wasn't in the Battalion CP. It was up at Easy. 

"Well, we all know who you'd like to be running Easy," Nixon said. He shook his head. "Trouble is, it's not your job anymore Dick. You gotta find somebody else."

Alice put her cup back on the table louder than she'd meant to. The other two turned to her again. After a moment she met their gazes, still livid, and quite confident they could see it in her face. Her fingers caught in her grimey hair as she ran a hand through it. 

"You wanna be in charge?" Dick muttered.

Alice scoffed. "Me? No thank you. We all know how well that would go."

"Ah, come on," Nixon joked. "You'd be great."

"Doesn't really matter," she reminded him. "Sink would never OK it."

Dick nodded. "Definitely true. Have any ideas?"

"Anyone but fuckin' Foxhole Norman," she snapped. After massaging her forehead with her hand, she sighed. "Sorry."

"You wanna go up there," Dick stated. When she glanced at him, face apologetic, he just sighed. "Go. Don't get me in trouble."

Alice laughed under her breath. As she stood, getting her helmet set and grabbing her rifle off the table, she just smiled. They both scoffed right back at the exaggerated salute she offered them on the way out.

By the time she got half way to Easy, night had started to fall. Picking her way around fallen branches and abandoned foxholes, Alice found she had to concentrate not to twist an ankle or wander in the wrong direction. Easy had cleared just over half a mile of forest to the edge of the Bois Jacques. In all it took her about half an hour to go from Battalion CP to the line.

When she got there, Alice found Buck making some rounds. She watched with a smile as he talked to Bill and Babe. Sitting on the edge of their foxhole, he smacked Bill in the chest with a splintered tree branch. Alice decided to leave them to chat.

Not far from them, she wandered into a sight that actually made her smile despite her anger and sadness over Hoobler's death. Skip, Alex, and George sat huddled in a foxhole. If she didn't know better she'd have thought them about five minutes away from hypothermia by the way they shook. Skip and Alex's mortar sat with George's radio on the far end of the foxhole while the two mortar men huddled together. Poor George only had himself for warmth.

Alice moved over to their foxhole and crouched. "Hey, boys," she said, voice hushed.

"Hey," George forced a grin. "Look who it is."

Skip huddled into Alex, also managed to grin after a moment. "Easy's own Princess come to see the peasants."

"I like that sound of that," she agreed. Somehow up on the line, it felt even colder than at the CP. After a split second, she scooted herself into the hole right between Skip and George. "Can't let my favorite peasants freeze, can I."

"Playin' favorites now, Alice?" Alex scoffed and shook his head.

"I'll deny it if you repeat it."

"Holy shit, you're warm," George muttered. He maneuvered closer to her. "Jesus."

Alice smiled a little and didn't protest. With George squeezed in on her right, it wasn't long before Skip ended up shimmying closer on her left. Not that she minded. The closer they squished, the warmer she felt. 

"Why do I get a mortar on my left, instead of a person," Alex muttered. His bitterness came through his voice perfectly. "It's not fair."

"Life ain't fair, Penk," George said.

Skip ended up laughing. "Don' we know it, George."

Moments later, Buck Compton appeared in front of them in the foxhole. George and Alice had to turn a bit to face him. They found him looking down in a mix of amusement and concern.

"When did you get up here?" asked Buck.

"Few minutes ago."

He nodded. "Right. Well, this goes for you two then. Don't do anything stupid." He eyed the men closer. "I don't wanna come back here and find out you've gotten Alice killed, too, along with yourselves."

She snorted, shifting closer to George. None of them responded. They all knew he was referring to Hoobler, but no one wanted to say it outright. Finally, Alice sighed. She looked up at him. "Don't worry, Buck. I'll keep them safe."

They looked at each other for a few moments. The way his muscles tightened, his jaw clenched. She could see how stressed he was. Alice's heart went out to him.

After a nod at her, he turned to the enlisted men. "I'm serious."

Alex nodded and waved him off. "Sure thing, Buck. Nothin' stupid. We got it. Right?"

Skip nodded as well. "We got it."

Silence. They all turned to George, who looked like a Popsicle. Alice nudged him at the same moment Buck said his name. He turned slowly. "Nothing stupid, Buck."

Satisfied, he stood back up. Alice caught his gaze again and offered a small smile. As he walked away, fading into the endless trees of the Ardennes, she bit her cheek. Something was not right with him, and hadn't been since his hospital stay. Her own experience in the field hospital had been traumatic enough that it made her bust out after two weeks. He'd been there for much longer. Alex's sarcastic tone brought her back to the present.

"Who the hell is he talking to? A bunch 'a morons who volunteered to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Can you get any more stupid than that?"

"Probably not," George added with a tiny snicker. 

Alex nodded. "Right."

But apparently, Skip Muck could. He smiled to himself before turning to the three others. "I swam across the Niagara once."

While George started laughing to himself, completely amused at his friend's antics and not at all surprised, Alex just shook his head and questioned him. But all Alice could picture was a massive waterfall. She supposed if there was a waterfall there had to be a river, though.

"I swear!" Skip chuckled again. "On a bet."

Clearly George hadn't made the connection that Alice had, because he just scoffed and shook his head. "What? In a barrel?"

"What?" Skip scoffed, clearly shocked by George's lack of knowledge. "No, I didn't go over the falls, George. I swam across the river." When he protested, Skip shook his head again. "Ten miles up from the falls. I tell you, that current is damn strong." As Alex nodded, he smirked again. "Must've carried me two miles down stream before I got across. But!" He held up his hand. "I got across."

Alice found herself smiling at his tale. Trust Skip Muck to be able to distract them for a few minutes from the hell that was the Ardennes. She felt George still shivering beside her, but at least he smiled.

"Now personally, I didn't think it was all that stupid, buy my mom, my sister Ruth, they gave me all kinds 'a hell."

George shook his head a little, still visibly freezing. He moved closer to Alice again. "Yeah,I bet, Muck." 

"So did Faye."

The effect was instantaneous. George, Alex, and Alice all broke into wide smiles. But before Alice could add a jab, George offered his own.

"Ah, sweet Faye Tanner," he said, grinning like an idiot.

"Shut up, George," Skip muttered.

"Well, they had a point." Alex turned from looking at George to Skip. "You're an idiot."

Alice broke out laughing again. "Alex, be nice please."

"Anything for you, your Highness," he muttered.

They fell into silence again. Chattering teeth and rapidly shaking clothes made the only noises around them. Alice felt her breathing slow, and her heart beating slower. Sitting between George and Skip, stealing their body heat, made her get far too comfortable. Just as she was about to drift off, though, Skip interrupted.

"Hey, Saint Luz, got any more smokes?" Skip mumbled.

"Nope," he muttered. "But those didn't come from me. Gotta ask the Princess here."

Alice yawned, opened her eyes back up. She shook her head. "Right, the princess name is getting old. I already have to deal with Sweetheart from Bill."

George snorted. "Please, you could've shot that down years ago if you really wanted to."

"Alice," Skip said, "any more smokes?"

With a sigh, she laid her head back for a moment, helmet hitting the top of the foxhole. But she nodded, Reaching into her pocket, Alice pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She had two more full packs back at the CP, so she handed them each two. 

"God bless you," Skip muttered.

Alice closed her eyes. She couldn't help a tiny smile from forming. With a sigh, she laid her head on George's shoulder, trying to get comfy again. "Anything for you boys."

With a tiny snort of a laugh, Alex huffed. He nodded. "That's why we like you."

She smiled again, but didn't open her eyes. With the smoke of the three cigarettes wafting around her, she relaxed. Despite the frigid cold on her exposed face, using George's breathing as a way to ground herself, Alice managed to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

“Lieutenant Klein?”

She didn’t recognize the voice asking for her. It took a moment before she forced open her eyes. When Alice blinked awake against the rising sun, she found a young private staring down at her. She shifted a bit, much to the annoyance of the three other guys in her foxhole.

“What’d you need, Private?” she asked. Her voice sounded dry. She realized the wind in the exposed foxhole must’ve done some damage.

He nodded. “Cap’n Winters needs you at the Battalion CP, sir. Ma’am.”

“Right.”

She didn’t move at first. When he saluted her, she returned so he could leave. A few moments of peace was all she wanted. But Alice gave a small sigh and pushed herself up. Immediately George and Skip both started to groan again.

“Huddle together if you’re cold,” Alice said.

George scoffed, pulling a blanket closer over himself. “What do you think we do every day? But you’re better company than Muck.”

With a small laugh, Alice started towards the Battalion CP. In the daylight, the walk went faster. It only took about twenty minutes to get back to the officers. When she did, she found Nixon and Dick chatting quietly. If she had to guess, she thought they might’ve been conspiring. They turned her way as she trudged through the cold.

“Did Dike give you any problems?” Dick asked.

Alice shook her head. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.” She looked at the paper that Dick held in his hands. “What’s that?”

“An eviction notice,” said Nixon.

Dick’s small laugh at the comment was enough to let Alice know she’d missed something. But Dick then turned to her to explain. “One officer from each Regiment is being sent home for thirty days, to get more support for the war.”

“You can’t leave,” Alice insisted.

Nixon laughed. “It was for me, actually.”

“You can’t leave either.”

“We’re going to send Peacock home,” said Dick, smiling. “Figured we could solve one of our problems, at least for a while.”

Assured that her friends and vital members of the 506th weren’t about to be sent back to the United States, Alice found herself smiling too. And of all the officers to need a trip home, both for their sake and the sake of the Company, Peacock was definitely the one. She nodded.

Alice looked around. “Right. What did you need me for?”

“Sink’s on his way, said he had a couple things for us,” Dick told her.

And sure enough, after a little while in which they all grabbed breakfast, Colonel Sink arrived by Jeep. He walked over to them, nodding. “Good morning, boys, and lady.”

“Morning, sir,” Dick said back.

“Let’s talk in the tent.”

They followed him back over to one of the small tents. Huddled inside, it offered only slight relief from the wind, but by the serious look on his face, there was more than just relief from the elements to hide from. He put a map on the table.

“First things first,” Sink began, “some boys from the USO are here to shoot some film of the men. Unfortunately, that puts you in a bit of a bind.” As he looked at Alice, he shrugged. “You can’t be seen or talked about by anyone from the Battalion. I sent one of my guys up to Easy to tell them that if they get an interview, your name stays out of it.”

Alice nodded. That had been the agreement all the way from the beginning. The Army had only agreed to her presence with the stipulation that her name and face never get out, at least not during the war. “What would you like me to do, sir?”

“Well, long as they don’t bother us, you stay here. If they start comin’ this way, we’ll send ya up to the Easy CP.” Then he turned to Nixon and Dick. “And if they come over here, you keep smiling. Gotta keep morale up for the folks back home.”

“Why?” Dick muttered.

Sink just scoffed. “Damned if I know. Alright Nix, what do they got waitin’ for us in Foy?”

All attention turned to the map as Nixon began to lay out the intel. Alice knew most of it already, as she and Nixon had gathered it together from Regimental. At least one company of Germans, an 88 but possibly more than one, and now, three Tiger tanks. As Nixon pointed out the areas and defenses on the map, though, a voice pulled both Alice and Dick’s attention away.

“Excuse me for a moment, sir,” he told Sink.

Dick pushed his way out of the tent even as Alice fastened a scarf in a way to be sure none of her hair showed. Not far from the tent they used, Joe Toye was being interviewed by the war correspondents. That would’ve been fine except for the fact that Joe Toye should’ve still been at the Aid Station. He’d been hit on New Year’s Eve in the arm. She just frowned as Dick pulled him aside.

When Dick walked back over a minute later, he interrupted them again. “Sir, they’re going to want to interview you. Lieutenant Klein should probably go up to Easy.”

Sink nodded quietly and looked from her back to the war correspondents. “Right. Nixon can brief you later.”

Alice nodded. With Dick at her side, she left the tent. Once they rounded a corner, he stopped her. “Keep an eye on Joe.”

“Yeah, because what the hell is he doing back?" Alice tried to keep her voice low, but her incredulity came through quite easily. She sighed. “Send a runner for me when those reporters are gone.”

“Stay out of trouble,” Dick reminded her.

With a small smile, Alice just laughed a bit. She hurried off in the direction of the Easy CP. It didn’t take long for her to overtake Joe Toye.

“Joe!” she called.

He turned around and shook his head. But he waited. When she caught up, Joe looked at her in surprise. “Miss me?”

Alice chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, Bill without you is a complete disaster.”

It brought her great pride when he laughed at her comment. Side by side, they picked their way through fallen branches, snow, and foxholes. The abandoned foxholes should’ve brought her joy, because they had managed to move up further and dig new ones. But they looked more ominous than anything, even in the bright sunlight.

Easy’s CP consisted of a lazily constructed tent between a couple pine trees, a tiny table beneath it, a radio, and a place to cook. Not much, especially compared to the more permanent Battalion CP, but still a nice place off the line. When she and Joe reached it, lunch had started. About twenty of the men stood in line or sat around the CP eating at their meals.

Bill Guarnere spotted them first. He grinned, making his way over. With a handshake, he welcomed his best friend back. “Good to see yah, pal.”

“You too.” Joe Toye grinned as he said it. That in and of itself was a welcome change.

“Now, what the hell are yah doing back?”

“Had to make sure you’re on top of things.”

Guarnere started snickering, leading the way back to the other guys. He nodded. “I’m on top ‘a things. Tied me own boots once last week. All by meself.”

While they rejoined the men, Alice couldn’t help but crack up at their antics. She shook her head. Not hungry, she decided to go join the ones not in line. As she realized George, leaning against a tree chewing at his meal, hadn’t noticed her, she decided to see if she could surprise him. He’d done it to her too many times. Unfortunately, Johnny Martin’s dig at the new replacement, whom she hadn’t met yet, made her laugh hard enough to get discovered.

“It’s called wounded, peanut. Injured’s when you fall outta a tree or something.”

Alice covered her mouth a bit as they all turned to her. She just waved back. Johnny looked at her decidedly annoyed, to which she couldn’t help but shrug and smile in return. Skip went on to list the wounds that each of the men had gotten in their time fighting. Almost everyone had gotten hit at least once, except George and Skip himself. When he finished up introducing everyone, he turned to her again.

“Now, Lieutenant Klein, she got shot by our own allies,” he quipped. Walking over to stand next to her, he passed her a cup of coffee. “Can’t imagine why. Not sure why anyone would shoot a girl.”

Alice didn’t respond. Instead she just rolled her eyes and looked at Skip, who stood right next to her. His cheeky grin never subsided.

Finally he turned back to the new replacement. “Webb, meet First Lieutenant Alice Klein. Alice, this is Webb. Also known as Peanut, now.”

“A pleasure.” She smiled at Webb, who couldn’t have been past his teenage years. “I work at the Company and Battalion level, so hopefully you’ll see me around.”

George snickered. “We will. You always end up back here.”

“Yeah, she’s fuckin’ crazy, Webb. Comes up here when she could be hidin’ at the Battalion CP.” Bill walked over. “Crazy broad.”

Alice knew exactly what Bill was doing. She’d seen it plenty of times before. This form of hazing had become incredibly effective. So as soon as Webb started laughing, she wasn’t at all surprised when Bill tore into him.

“What?” Bill snapped. “You think it’s funny? She ain’t hidin’ at the CP cause she ain’t afraid peanut. Alice is out here like the rest of us, fightin’ off the goddamn Germans. Her own fuckin’ people. So you better shut that mouth.”

The area fell silent. Alice had to suppress her smile at Bill’s words. But Webb looked absolutely terrified, so she took the moment to play peacemaker, yet another reason this shaming technique seemed to work.

“Private, we’re not going to have any problems.” She straightened up. With a smile, she turned from Webb, to Skip, back to Webb. “Not unless you shoot me when I speak German.”

George, and then the whole area, started chuckling at her comment. Webb brightened a bit, his nervousness calming. He nodded to her. She nodded right back. It didn’t take long for the area to fade back into some semblance of normality. Johnny and Bull wandered over with their cups of food.

“What’s the news, Lieutenant,” Johnny asked her.

She tried not to smile, but it was helpless. “Eviction notice.”

“What?” George asked.

Alice shrugged. With a tiny laugh under her breath she looked between George, Johnny, Skip, and Bull. “Lieutenant Peacock has been selected to go home for thirty days. That’s why he’s back at the Battalion CP.”

They looked at her in shock. After several moments of silence, though, they all started laughing. It felt good to know they enjoyed the news as much as she did. She knew their opinions of him were extremely low, and though she thought he was a nice enough guy, she did see far too much of Sobel’s ineptitude in him.

“So, you takin’ over now?” Bull asked. The half smile on his face told her he knew the answer to that one, though.

She snorted, laughing into her cup as she tried to take another drink. “Between Buck, Shames, and Foley, you’ll be fine.”

“As long as Dike doesn’t get in the way,” muttered George.

They all stood silent for a second. Alice tried to find the right words, words to comfort them or at least appease them. But at the same time, she felt exactly the same way. Finally she shrugged. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll keep doing what I’m doing, and so will Winters and Nixon.” After a pause, making sure they all heard her, she paused, looking around. “Anyone know where Lip went?”

“He was gonna chat with Tab up at the OP after lunch,” Johnny told her. “You needed him?”

Alice smirked. “When do we not need Lip?”

“Very true.” George tried to talk through a mouthful of the lunch, causing the others to roll their eyes. But he nodded. “We’re heading up to our spots right outside Foy. You coming with us?”

“No.” She shook her head. “As soon as the USO reporters are gone, I’m back to Battalion. Someone’s gotta help plan this attack.”

With the mood a bit soured, she just finished up her coffee in silence. The other four chatted aimlessly. The war went well, and they blocked out any thoughts of the impending battle for Foy in order to preserve their own sanity. When the runner came from Dick to bring her back to Battalion, she left with a smile. As she passed Bill and Joe she stopped, remembering what Dick said.

“Hey, Joe. Watch that arm, ok?”

He rolled his eyes. “Get out of here.”

“I mean, it!”

Both of them just laughed and shooed her away. Soon, she found herself smiling again. The Bois Jacques were soon to be a thing of the past. Sure, the attack on Foy would be dangerous, extremely dangerous. But they’d almost gotten there. That alone was a miracle to her. Now she had a job to do. Likely they’d have a German prisoner or two after their advance. So with that thought, Alice left them to finish up lunch and get moving towards their old positions.


	12. Chapter 12

All Alice did when the shelling started was sit by the radio op with Nixon and Dick. It sounded like 88s. A lot of 88s. They weren't shelling the Battalion CP, though, so that meant they were shelling someplace else. And given Easy's proximity to Foy, they were the most likely target.

With every explosion, they flinched. It sounded like firecrackers but a hundred times louder. Two contradictory thoughts filled her mind. On the one hand, she thanked God that she'd come back to the CP an hour ago. On the other, she wished she could've brought the others back as well and felt guilty leaving them.

The shelling stopped after about eight minutes. At first she welcomed the silence. She thanked the Lord for it. But then she realized that meant they'd either hit their target, or decided to let the men settle back down. Both thoughts made her sick.

It didn't take long for the reports to come in. Dick took the phone from the sergeant operating the radio. Alice thought she could make out Perconte on the other end. But she couldn't catch what was said. When Dick hung up the phone, he had them follow.

"Easy was hit head on, and some of Dog as well. Don't know how many casualties." He turned to Alice. "Go help Battalion Aid. I want them ready for anything."

She didn't wait to hear his instructions for Nixon or the others at the CP. Dashing off through the CP, she dodged several enlisted men on her way down the road. The new Battalion Aid, set up after the roads reopened and the siege broke, lay not far beyond the command post.

Her thoughts immediately went to Gene and Spina. Both of them were far too self sacrificing for their own good. She just knew they'd have been running around out of holes as soon as they could. Maybe too soon.

"Lieutenant," Alice started. She skidded to a halt at the Battalion Aid station. They had a couple of tents, two doctors, and a handful of medics. The main doctor, Lieutenant Salvatore, looked up at her. "What can I help with? Captain Winters sent me."

"We've got two coming in right now. Serious injuries," he told her. "We'll need to stabilize them. They're from Easy," he added. "You worked with Easy, right?"

Her heart stopped. "Yes."

"Talk to them, then. Keep them calm. We've got enough medics here for now," he told her. Salvatore looked at her carefully. He frowned. Turning away, he hurried to get gloves on.

Alice went into the closest tent. She needed to keep busy. No point in getting terrified over speculation. For all she knew, it was just a couple of the replacements.

Suddenly she felt sick again. How the hell she could've had such a thought disturbed her. No. Regardless of who'd been hit, they had as much right to her comfort and hope as the men she was closest with. She sat down on a wooden bench. Head in her hands, hunched over her knees, Alice tried to breathe. Just breathe, and not think.

A few minutes later, her heart sank even further. The flap of the tent opened. She shot up. Gene stood, helmet at his side. On the one hand, the sight of the medic had her ecstatic. On the other, she knew him well enough to know that his drawn expression meant trouble.

"Cherie-" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Toye and Guarnere got hit bad. The Doc's stabilizing them. Nothin' much they can do here. They need the field hospital." He frowned again. "As soon as Bill is stable, I talked to Lieutenant Salvatore. You can have a few minutes with him. Then with Joe. I'll be in here though."

In the span of about five seconds, the time it took for Gene to say their names, Alice felt her entire world flip. Her stomach turned over. All the wind got knocked out of her chest. She felt heat radiating through her, an odd sensation, and her head began to hurt a little.

"Alice, breathe." Gene moved to her immediately.

She felt his hands on either side of her body, gripping her arms tight. He told her to breathe again, and she realized she hadn't in quite a while. With a shaky breath, she got her oxygen going. So many thoughts raced through her mind. She couldn't think, couldn't talk. She understood his words, but she couldn't comprehend them.

"Gene. Survivront-ils?" she finally asked. Her tears hadn't started yet, but she shook like a leaf. She could feel it. "Or-"

"Je sais pas, cherie. Je sais pas." He shook his head. Slowly he took his hands away from her arms. "I hope though. They should, if they get stabilized here and moved down the line. Heyliger got hit pretty bad, an' he's doin' ok."

The flap opened again. Stepping to the side, Gene turned to look the same as she did. Two medics carried a litter in. For a horrible moment, Alice nearly turned away. But she couldn't. Not for the two men who had become brothers. She'd watched while Marc had been shot in the head. She could, she would, stay with Joe and Bill for what little time she had.

Alice could see the struggle on Bill's face as he tried not to show any pain. Gene moved over to him, talking quietly, reassuringly. Alice loved when he dropped the formalities with the men. Seeing him call his friend Bill instead of Sergeant Guarnere reminded her just how much Gene really did care, but worried about showing. Somehow, in that moment, for the briefest second, her despair subsided.

"Hey sweetheart."

At his words, it came right back. Another wave of shock and horror and panic hit her like a physical force. And that's when the tears started. Even all her practice, all her self control that she'd developed over the past four years of being surrounded by men who expected it of her, Alice could not contain them then.

"I told Joe he ain't gonna beat me home," he started joking, "naturally I had to go and get hit with 'im."

"So damn competitive," Alice said, choking on her tears briefly. She wiped them away as best she could. But the tears wouldn't stop. "Goddamn it. Fuck."

Bill actually managed to laugh. That made her open her eyes again. She took in everything. He looked paler than normal, making his hair stand out even more. The right pant leg had been cut at the thigh and white bandages applied to what was left. They were stained pink in several areas. His ODs, covered in blood and dirt, looked a mess. But he still flashed her a smile when she looked at him.

"You better fucking write me," she sputtered out, crouching next to the litter. It bugged her a bit, more than it should've maybe, that she couldn't stop her tears. They'd never seen her really cry. She'd made sure of that, even after all their time in combat. But this, this she couldn't control. "Damn it, you better."

"Yeah well you better win this fuckin' war. Go back to Germany or somethin'." He shivered on the litter. Blinking a few times, he sighed. "Think the goddamn morphine's finally kicking in. Better come visit Philly when all this is over, yeah?"

Alice laughed a little through her tears. "Yeah. Yeah definitely."

"Babe'll bring yah." He nodded, though his head stayed on the stretcher. "Hey, sweetheart?"

"Yeah?"

"Since nobody's here but Doc, could I get a kiss?"

Alice and Gene both started laughing. Before she could respond, Gene walked to the other side and picked up his hand to check his pulse. "Might get a little too excited with that one, Guarnere."

"If I'm gonna die, I wan' a kiss."

"You ain't gonna die, Sergeant," Gene told him firmly. He laid his arm back on the litter. "Not unless someone murders you for gettin' a kiss from her."

Alice just laughed again, shaking her head. While Gene ducked out of the tent for a moment, she turned back "How about this." She stood up and planted one on his forehead. "A kiss for good luck. That's the best you're getting."

"Fine."

When Gene came back in, he frowned. "Sorry to break this up, but Bill we've gotta move you to the field hospital. First stop is Bastogne and then from there, we'll get you to England."

He nodded. "Joe?"

"He's ok. But the drugs already knocked him out." He looked at Alice. "I'm sorry."

She felt her throat constrict but nodded. "Fine. Bill, you tell him the same thing I told you. Better write me." She closed her eyes again and shook her head, trying to stop her tears. Her breathing came in heaves as she knelt beside him and grabbed his hand. "Scheisse. I love you so much. You have to write me. And you have to tell Joe that too, and yell at him for getting hit because I fucking told him to be careful."

He didn't say anything back, but he gripped her hand tighter. After a few moments, she pulled her other hand away from her face. She looked at him. Nothing needed to be said. She knew the feeling was mutual, even if he couldn't articulate it.

"We need to move him," Gene said. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, cherie."

But she knew he was right. For Bill's sake, and for Joe's. It took another moment before she was able to release his hand. But when she did, he nodded at her.

"Go win this fuckin' war, sweetheart."

Gene leaned out of the tent and moments later, two corporals came in and grabbed the litter. She watched him go. As soon as he'd turned away, she saw his whole body seem to deflate. Her emotions did the same. Left in the tent, silent, with just Gene at her side, she felt completely and totally exhausted. Gene must've noticed because he turned to her immediately.

"Woah, ok. Let's get you back to Battalion."

She just nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. The terror had turned to numbness. Instead of shock, she felt empty. Alice's felt her brain just stop. With Gene at her side, guiding her down the road, Alice stayed silent. When she told her to go lay down, she didn't protest. The foxhole became her safe house.


	13. Chapter 13

Sleep never came. Alice sat there for hours, her back against the frozen ground of the foxhole. But no matter how long she lay there, sleep eluded her. The only light she saw would be the flame of her smooth, silver lighter which she flipped it open to attempt some meager warmth.

Sleep never came, but her tears never stopped. They’d slowed, sometimes reduced to tiny sniffles as she clutched at her blanket and hugged the corner of her hole. Sometimes they came out in sobs that she had to stifle against her scarf. When that happened, not only did she have to contend with the tears, but her cough as well. It came randomly, sometimes when she least expected it, ripping through her body much worse than before. She blamed the tears.

Alice didn’t know what time it was when someone moved the tarp over her foxhole. Lit by one of the lights the CP kept on at all hours, she saw Nixon looking in. By this point, she’d fallen back into silent tears.

He looked at her closely. She figured she was quite a sight; eyes red and puffy, arms folded across herself for warmth and security, hair almost certainly plastered to her cheeks, and dirt covering every inch of bare skin. Her trembling came from either the cold or her turmoil, which she didn’t know. Perhaps both. But she knew she must’ve looked horrible.

Nixon raised his flask and flashed it her way. It glinted in the light. “Is this bedroom free?”

Alice didn’t respond right away. But when Nixon flinched away at a particularly strong gust of wind. She sighed. “As long as you pay rent.”

“That’s what the whiskey’s for.”

A moment later, after rustling the tarp a bit more, he slid down into the foxhole. A bit of dirt got kicked up, flakes of mud from the treads of his boots. Nixon huffed as he settled next to her. Immediately the presence of another human in the foxhole raised the temperature. Without even thinking, she moved closer to get as much warmth as possible.

Neither spoke. Neither could, and neither needed to. Alice did accept the metal flask, though. She unscrewed it and downed a long drink of whiskey. It stung her throat. Somehow, though, it brought comfort. After screwing the top back on, she passed it back over.

“Doc said-”

“Stop.” Alice shook her head. Her hands started trembling again. She took the flask back and took another drink. “Talk about something else.” The last bit came out as more of a whine than she’d intended. When he took the flask, she just put her head in her hands and arms on her knees. “Pick anything else.”

Nixon didn’t object. Instead, he took a drink himself. “Ok. Would you rather have a dog, or a cat?”

“Both.” 

The speed at which she responded surprised both of them. Trigger’s face entered her thoughts. She missed his fur, which had been somehow both coarse and soft. She missed his steady heartbeat against her body. She missed his large brown eyes and wet nose. She missed his bark. She missed his warmth. 

Before she could stop herself, Alice’s face scrunched up from unshed tears. Her hands went to cover her face as best she could. Even as she desperately stifled her crying, staying as quiet as she could in the foxhole, her body shook with sobs.

When Nixon pulled her into a hug, she couldn’t control it anymore. Alice wept. She could taste the salt from her tears as they rolled down her face and wet her lips. At first she could smell the Vat 69 that Nixon took a drink of, but the more she cried the less she could. But she could feel the warmth of being near him, and that brought her comfort. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep.

Nixon didn’t. Even confident she’d drifted off, he could still feel her shivers between struggled breaths. But her heart beat had calmed. Her head rested on his chest, arms folded in on herself near her face. He could only see her hair. It didn’t surprise him, but for the first time he realized just dull and nearly caramel-brown her usually golden blonde hair had become. Knotted, tangled strands stuck out at odd angles.

He took another drink. Nixon didn’t know how long he’d sat there, letting her try to grab a few hours of sleep. He hadn’t been anywhere near as close to Joe Toye or Bill Guarnere as she had, or Dick even, but even he knew that losing them would be a blow to the company both in terms of numbers and morale. Guarnere had been Second’s Platoon Sergeant, after all, and he got there not just because of his skills in battle but his leadership with the men.

But he also knew that for Alice, he and Toye had been much more than that. They’d been brothers. It was no secret that the two of them had been the driving force behind keeping replacements in line with regards to Alice. Not that she’d needed the help necessarily. He guessed she let them do it as much so they’d be happy about it as herself. And after losing all of her relatives to this war, he knew he couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt.

As he sipped at his whiskey, he looked up when the tarp over the foxhole moved. A very early bit of sunlight shined through the opening. It didn’t surprise him to find Dick crouched there.

“Figured you were in here,” he said, keeping his voice low. With a long look at her, he sighed. Then he glanced back up. “Nix?”

“What?”

“Be careful.”

Nixon took the flask from his mouth. He looked at his friend carefully. “No lines have been crossed, Dick.”

“Just be careful. For your sake and hers.”

“Jesus Christ, Dick.” He shook his head, trying to keep his voice low. Nixon glared at him. “I could hear her sobbing, for hours. What the hell was I supposed to do? Listen to it all night? I’m right next door!”

Dick’s face fell. He nodded. “I know.”

A few moments passed in silence. Nixon took another drink, Dick watched them both carefully. Outside, no one else stirred. Just the two of them, and Alice sound asleep. It was Nixon who broke the silence.

“This is the first time she’s cried in front of one of us,” he muttered. “Ever. In two and a half years. She never cried.”

“Not in front of anyone,” Dick reminded him.

He huffed. “Well, yeah.”

“She’ll be fine. She’s tough,” said Dick. With a nod and a deep breath, he gestured to her. “I don’t like the sound of her cough, though. Doc Roe said it’s starting to become a concern.”

“Yeah I spoke with Doc Spina a couple days ago,” he agreed. He looked at her again and then up at Dick. “You know she’s going to want to go back to Easy after this.”

Dick fell quiet for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah I know.”

“What are you gonna tell her?”

“If I thought she’d listen to me, I’d say no,” he admitted, scoffing ever so slightly. “But Easy needs help. With Gordon, Guarnere, Toye, and now Buck gone from Second, and Hoobler, Sisk, Julian, and Peacock from First, they could use her.”

“Dike won’t be happy.”

Dick scoffed. With a shake of his head, he looked Nixon right in the eyes. “That is one thing I don’t care about right now. He’s going to listen to me, whether he wants to or not.”

With a snort, Nixon just started smiling. They both stayed where they were, neither wanting to wake up Alice. It had only been a couple hours since she’d drifted off. But the sun had started to rise, and they had work to do. For a moment, Nixon wondered if it’d be better to leave her there, asleep, to wake up alone, or wake her up right then.

Luckily the choice was made for them. As the light of the rising sun fell into the foxhole, Alice stirred. Dick and Nixon both turned from each other to her as she pushed herself awake. It took a moment for her to get her bearings. 

“Good morning,” Nixon said.

She paused, looking around from him to Dick to herself. Alice shrank back. Memories crashed into her, hard. Joe and Bill being sent off the line, coughing up a bit of blood from her sore throat, sobbing for who could tell how long, and then she remembered Nixon joining her. 

“What time is it?” she asked. Her voice was hoarse. While Dick told her it was almost 0700, she reached for her canteen. The water soothed her throat. With a quick wipe of her mouth, she turned to them again. “Easy?”

Dick gave her a rundown. A few minor injuries, damaged morale, Joe and Bill, and, she found out, Buck had been taken off the line as well. He told her it was from severe trench foot. She saw right through the lie. But she respected Dick for keeping it to himself. The loss hurt, though.

Alice followed Nixon out into the open CP. With her helmet on and arms crossed over her chest, nothing was said between any of them about her breakdown. Her body wanted to reject the offered breakfast, but Dick wouldn’t back down, so she took it anyways. Between the cold coffee and the horrible k rations she was allotted, Alice ate a meal.

“Alice.” Dick looked at her as they sat on logs around the small burner that heated their coffee. He clutched his silver cup close. “They could use some help up on the line.” She perked up immediately, so he continued on. “I can’t officially put you in as Buck’s replacement, but I want you up with Easy. They’re short on everything right now, officers and enlisted. I wrote out an order for Dike. You’re operating under my direct orders. So he maintains control of the company, but you report to me.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, smirking. Alice took the piece of paper he offered to her and stuck it in her pocket. 

When she stood up, finished with her meal and coffee, he stopped her. “Alice.”

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

She didn’t respond at first. Her gaze shifted from Dick to Nixon and back. But she gave them both a small nod. “I will.”

“Go show Dike how to actually command,” Nixon joked.

Alice didn’t grant him any real response except a small smirk. Before long she had gathered her weapons and ammo, and with her helmet securely on her head, Alice made the trek up the forest towards Foy. 

As she approached, Alice could only describe the forest as broken. The trees had burst a few feet off the ground, with splintered wood like daggers embedded around the forest floor and in other trunks. The sheer fire power it must’ve taken to completely wipe out the trees managed to scare her considerably. 

“What are ya’ doin’ up here!” Spina picked his way over some fallen branches to her. “Goddamnit, Alice. Gene said your cough’s gettin’ worse.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can manage it. Easy needs help.”

“Does Cap’n Winters know you’re here?”

“I’m here under his orders, Spina,” she snapped.

He looked at her in surprise, both at her tone and what she said. But with a shrug, he gestured forward. “Well come on, then. If you’re supposed to be here, I’ll admit, we can use the help. It’s been pretty damn quiet since last night.”

“Easy, or the line?”

“Easy. Losing Bill and Joe, and then Buck…”

Alice nodded. She swallowed back her emotions as best she could. “Yeah.”

They walked together towards the Easy CP. It surprised Alice at how quiet everything was. But like Spina had said, she shouldn’t have been. She smiled in relief when she found Lipton, Dike, and Shames at the CP. At least she liked three of those four, as Shames and Foley had never been rude to her.

“Lieutenant Dike,” she said, announcing her presence. “I’m here with orders from Captain Winters to assist Easy Company after the most recent losses.” 

The three other officers and Lipton looked over at her. Foley and Shames both seemed surprised, but Lipton flashed her a small smile. Lieutenant Dike, however, looked almost like a deer in headlights. Fishing out the paper from her pocket, she handed it over. He took it, shivering in the cold.

“Right. You can-- you can just help the platoons as you would.” He looked long at her and then turned to the others he’d been speaking with. “We know your orders, lieutenants, sergeant.”

“Sir,” they all said as one.

Dike nodded. “Good. Then do them.”

He left without saying anything more. Where to, Alice had no idea. It didn’t escape her notice, though, that Spina watched him leave with a glare. His glares weren’t quite as brutally effective as Gene’s, but given he was from Philadelphia, she figured he could back it up. With Dike fading into the trees, they all turned to her.

“Well.” She nodded, pausing. “We’re clearing the Western edge?”

For a few minutes, Shames, Foley, and Lipton outlined a plan for the day. It involved several different platoon maneuvers that Alice knew for a fact Dike hadn’t instituted. One of them was even a maneuver that had been developed by the Toccoa men back in training. Trust Lipton to be the brains. Not that Shames or Foley couldn’t hold their own; they could. She didn’t mind them, they didn’t mind her.

Lipton, once the other two Platoon Leaders had said their pieces, nodded to her. “Lieutenants, I’ll show Lieutenant Klein where we’re stationed now.”

“Right,” Foley agreed.

Both he and Shames wandered off, leaving Lipton and Alice in the CP by themselves. It took her a moment before she turned to him. They both started talking at the same time. Lipton gestured for her to go ahead.

“How’s Easy?” she asked, voice soft. “I mean, not great, I’m sure.”

Lipton took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, losing Bill and Joe hurts.”

“George, Malarkey, Babe…” She trailed off. But she turned back to them. “They’ve got to be hit hardest.”

With a nod, he started off and the direction towards the line with her at his side. “It wasn’t pretty. George found them first. He was… uh... shaken up. Malarkey has plans to go into Bastogne and see Buck before he gets sent off. As for Babe.” He shook his head. “He hasn’t said much.”

“I’ll talk to them, Lip,” she assured him. 

“Alice.” His tone stopped her in her tracks. His arms were across his chest, and in the cold, the scar across his cheek grew more pronounced. He sighed again. “Are you alright?”

The question hit her hard. She felt like she’d run into a brick wall. She knew Nixon and Dick had been thinking the same thing, but somehow, hearing it from Lipton brought all the emotions back. She hesitated a moment longer before replying. “I’ll be fine.”

It was Lipton’s turn not to say anything. He looked at her carefully. She felt him trying to gauge her state of mind. But finally he nodded. “Right. Well, if you could help Second Platoon until we stop, I’d be grateful. Malarkey is acting Platoon Sergeant, now. He should have everything under control, but I’m sure he’d appreciate any help.”

“Consider it done, Lip.” 

She flashed him a small smile. Before too long, she’d found Second Platoon gathering together in the woods. Not much was spoken as she showed up, but the nod that Malarkey sent her told her enough. She knew her presence was appreciated. And she would do her hardest to make sure to help them. She hadn’t put much time in on the front lines. They had. If anyone deserved her comfort and help, it was this group right in front of her.


	14. Chapter 14

When night had fallen and foxholes had been dug for the next day or so, Alice left Second Platoon in Malarkey's capable hands. He seemed to be holding it together well, but she made a mental note to sit down with him when she had a chance, and, more importantly, when he had a chance. As she walked through the darkness of the woods west of Foy, Alice said hellos to any man she passed. Perconte and Bull joked around with her for a few minutes. She got the same friendly reactions from Talbert, Shifty, Liebgott, and Alley.

Despite keeping her smile up, Alice's heart ached. Not just for Bill and Joe, not just for her own loss, but for the way the men looked around themselves with a sort of apprehension she'd not seen since the siege had broken after Christmas. So when she reached the person she'd been looking for, Alice prayed he'd be the humor she so desperately needed.

"Hey, George," Alice said, voice low. He sat in his foxhole alone, messing with his radio. As she approached and he looked up, Alice shot a smile. "Got a buddy?"

"My foxhole is your foxhole," he muttered. George grabbed his radio and shifted it to make room. He looked cold, but none of them were as frozen as just a few days ago. He looked at her as she slid in. "You good?"

Alice let out a small laugh. She turned to him. "That's what I was going to ask you."

Instead of answering, George dug out his current pack of smokes. He flicked it open and took two out. "Cigarette?"

She took it from him. "Thanks."

George just nodded as he lit his own. For several moments they sat in silence. Cigarette smoke wound its way up into the trees. Every so often they'd hear the distant pop of machine gun fire. From where they sat, they could see the stars above them. If it hadn't been for the looming threat of the war that hung over their heads, she might've even called it peaceful.

"George," she started again.

"Yeah?"

"You didn't answer my question."

George scoffed around the cigarette. With little drama, he took it from his mouth and shrugged. "Better than the goddamn krauts are gonna be when we get to Foy."

Her eyes shut for a few moments at his words. She also removed her cigarette. Dousing it in the snow, Alice just sighed. "Yeah."

"Sorry," he muttered. "Germans."

"It's alright."

They fell back into silence again. A gust of wind tore through the area just as Alice yawned, and suddenly her cough overwhelmed her. Hacking to the side, it was the pain of her throat more even than her heaving breaths that hurt. As she moved her arm back from her mouth, she saw another bit of blood on her fatigues. Alice wiped it away quickly before turning back to George. He watched her in concern.

"That doesn't sound too good."

She side eyed him, but didn't respond. Trying to get her breathing back in line, Alice closed her eyes. With her head back against the foxhole, she tried to relax. "Hey, how old is Maria now?"

"That kid's gotta be seven," he said.

Alice could hear the smile in his voice. When she turned to look at him, she saw he appeared a little less murderous. "That makes Victoria what, twenty-one?"

He grinned at her. "Yeah."

"What do you think she'd think of me," Alice asked, smiling as well.

"Oh, she'd say you're batshit crazy."

Both of them started laughing, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. It took a moment for Alice to rein herself back in. But after a minute, they were back to silence. Only the rustling of the pine trees made any noise.

"What do you think your family's doing right now?" she asked. Her voice fell again. A sudden urge to have family to think back to overtook her. But as she glanced over at George, she sighed. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

He just shrugged. "Nah, it's alright. My brothers are probably finishing up some school work. Victoria's probably out with her friends. That girl will be the death of me," he muttered. "Rita's probably given mom hell because she doesn't want to play with Maria. And that little she devil's probably rolling around in the dirt."

Alice started chuckling. "I remember those days."

"What, rolling around in the dirt?"

"No, no. I was more like Rita," Alice admitted. With a smile, she shook her head. "Got really annoyed at Bernadette chasing after me, wanting me to do her hair and stuff."

"What, you were good at doing fancy hair?" George started snickering. "No shit?"

Alice rolled her eyes. But she nodded. "I'll have you know my braiding skills are excellent. But I haven't had hair long enough to bother with it in years."

George just continued to laugh under his breath, clearly not convinced at her claim. Alice ignored him. Soon enough, once more, they returned to sitting peacefully amidst the dangerous silence of night. They continued that way for quite a while, neither sleeping, neither speaking. So used to the quiet had she become that Alice startled when he spoke again a little while later.

"Hey, Alice."

"Hm?" She glanced over at him.

He looked at her, his expression almost unreadable. It certainly wasn't the usually teasing, carefree George she'd grown used to in the past two years. He bit his cheek. "Why don't you sing anymore?"

She stared at him. Why didn't she sing? Why didn't she... Alice didn't know. Well, she did know. She didn't sing because all her emotions had been channeled towards one thing, survival. Control your breathing, control your gun grip, control your voice. That led to survival. She hadn't thought about singing in quite a while. Or rather, she hadn't let herself think about singing in quite a while.

"Sorry," George apologized. "I just-"

Her heart beat a bit faster. But she shook her head. "No, no it's fine. I guess I've been too worried about, well about everything. I guess it was easier to sort of shut that door."

"Yeah."

Another pause. As Alice lay her head back and looked up through the broken canopy of pine needles, her eyes fell on the stars. Like little radiant crystals, they sparkled down at her. For a moment, Alice thought about how similar and yet dramatically different the enemy flares were from the stars. When she'd first seen a flare go up, she'd marvelled at the way it looked like a shooting star. Or she had, until the machine gun fire had started.

Alice took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment to gather herself before starting a song she'd heard in England, and then repeatedly in America when she'd gotten to see the Walt Disney Productions' film, Pinocchio, for the first time. With her voice low, she decided to sing a bit.

_"When you wish upon a star_

_"Makes no difference who you are_

_"Anything your heart desires will come to you._

_"If your heart is in your dream_

_"No request is too extreme_

_"When you wish upon a star_

_"As dreamers do."_

The world returned to a peaceful stillness. Alice didn't turn to look at George, instead she just stayed staring at the stars above them. Before long, she started smiling just a little bit.

Skip Muck suddenly slipped into the foxhole. "Damn, I forgot you could sing, Alice."

"I didn't," Alex countered. He scooted between Skip and Alice, sliding into the foxhole as carefully as he could not to knock her.

Alice smiled and scooted a bit to her left, closer to George. Once they had all settled into their spots, she closed her eyes again. All she wanted was to drift off to sleep, unbothered by the threat of war around her. She wanted to slip into pleasant dreams, dreams away from Bastogne and Foy and the Bois Jacques. She thought maybe to dream of summers in Provence, or her childhood in Hamburg.

"Faye can sing," Skip said a minute later. Then he looked right at George. "George, no!"

The man in question started snickering but said nothing. As Alice sat back, they chatted quietly, sharing smokes with one another almost as though nothing had gone wrong. Almost, but not quite. Skip and Alex chatted about how Malarkey was working his butt off in Second Platoon, how with the recent losses, taking Foy would be that much harder. Gentle tones, but depressing topics.

"Sur les marches de la mort, J'écris ton nom," Alice murmured. She sighed. "J'écris ton nom."

They fell quiet at her French, before finally Skip spoke up. "Faye can't speak French, though."

"What?" Alice looked at them in confusion. "Oh. Pardon, that's from a poem."

"Yeah? What else you got," George asked.

"In French?"

"Yeah."

"'Sur la santé revenue, sur le risque disparu, sur l'espoir sans souvenir, J'écris ton nom. Et par le pouvoir d'un mot, je recommence ma vie, je suis né pour te connaître pour te nommer. Liberté.'" Alice closed her eyes for a moment. "It was written in 1942, by a man named Paul Eluard. 'On the returned health, on the disappeared risk, on the hope without memory, I write your name. And by the power of a word, I start my life over again, I was born to know you, to name you.'" Alice paused before continuing. "Freedom."

Before long, Skip and Alex had to return to their foxhole. The time for stretching legs had passed, and being near their equipment took precedence. Left in the quiet with George, she found herself feeling entirely weak. Occasionally her cough would interrupt the quiet, but she stifled it as best she could. After a while, she spoke up again, keeping her voice as low as possible.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss them."

"Yeah. Me too."

Neither said anything more. Alice knew she should sleep, try to rest as much as possible. In the morning they'd move a bit more West and cover the last bit of the forest. They'd yet to hit much resistance, just a few patrols here and there. A few wounded in action, none killed. Tomorrow Alice made a pact with herself not to sleep until she'd touched base with as many Toccoa men as possible, to make sure they were holding up alright. She wanted to talk to Johnny. Grant and Talbert, too, she decided.

Making a list of all the people to talk to in the morning, Alice calmed down. Verses of When You Wish Upon a Star filled her mind. With pleasant thoughts covering the anxiety, Alice slept.


	15. Chapter 15

**January 9, 1945**

Five days of Lieutenant Dike and Alice had just about had enough. How the enlisted put up with his issues day in and day out, she had no idea. She barely had to take orders from him and still it drove her insane. The one benefit of Dike was that E Company once more had a common enemy closer to home than the Germans.

It had taken a few days, but some sense of normalcy had returned to everyone, Second Platoon included. Alice had come to terms with the absence of Bill and Joe by reminding herself that they at least were finished; no more fighting in foxholes or clearing buildings for them. Bill could go home to Frannie, and Joe to his family. Buck would be helped as much as they could, but he too had earned his trip home. So focus turned back to the matter at hand: taking Foy.

And with their return to the forests right outside Foy, a hesitant confidence had spread through the company again. Their final target lay within arm’s reach. Foy would be theirs soon. And yet, even with that thought, the mutilated forest with it’s splintered trunks and half-caved in foxholes, reminded all of them what lay before their victory.

Still, the world spun on. George fell back on his humor to try to keep himself and the company in high spirits. Muck and Penkala did their best to spend time with Malarkey as they could, as all of them missed Buck, but knew it had hit their friend hardest. When she could, Alice floated between the various Staff Sergeants from Toccoa. At what point Johnny had become one of her greatest sources of strength, Alice didn’t know. But he had a level head and she valued his opinions.

That afternoon, Alice found him chopping branches from downed pine trees for foxhole cover. Good cover could keep you alive, stopping shrapnel pieces, especially splinters from tree bursts. Nearby, Kenneth Webb did the same, watching Johnny out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey, Johnny.” She moved over to him, leaning against what was left of a tree trunk, still standing until about six feet up.

He straightened up, letting the small hatchet fall to his side. Sweat glistened against his bare skin. He sighed. “What’s the news?”

“No news.” She shrugged. “Thought I’d see how everyone on this side of Easy was fairing.” When he just shrugged right back, Alice smiled. She looked past him. “Hey Webb, how’re you?”

“Fine, Lieutenant sir, ma’am.”

Alice laughed. She folded her arms across her chest. Nodding his way, she waved him off. “You can drop the extra formalities.”

“Yeah, Peanut. She don’t deserve them,” Johnny added. He gestured to her. “Now are you gonna stand there lookin’ pretty or help?”

“Is that any way to talk to a superior officer,” she teased. But she unhooked a hatchet from her belt and winked. Before long she had started breaking down branches. “The nerve.”

Johnny just scoffed. As they worked, Alice could feel the curiosity coming from Webb’s direction. He kept glancing between her, and Johnny, and his work. Finally she laughed and turned back to him. “What do you want to know?”

He hesitated. But the private decided to take advantage of the opportunity. “Well, Lieutenant. It’s just that, you don’t act like the other officers.” He paused as Johnny eyed him closer. “You seem to like the enlisted more. Sir. Ma'am.”

Alice couldn’t stop her smile. She turned from Webb to Johnny. The other man just shrugged. She turned back. “Well, multiple reasons. I started training with the Toccoa men when everybody else started. So I’ve been around for awhile. And though I’m a Lieutenant in rank, back then, before the war, I was treated more like an enlisted. Being a woman and all.”

“Once we came over here, though, she dumped us for better sleeping quarters and more authority,” Johnny added.

She laughed. “Once we came over here, I became more useful.”

Webb nodded. “So what exactly do you do?”

“Well, primarily I help at the S-2 level, with Captain Nixon, sort of as a go-between for him and Easy Company. Technically, I think, I report to Captain Winters, who reports to Colonel Strayer.” She moved away from the branches she’d cut. With a hefty toss, she put them on a small pile. “I translate documents, help with prisoner interrogations sometimes, and generally just help with the Intelligence side of things.”

“She’s also the best shot in this company-”

“With a German gun,” Alice corrected.

Johnny nodded. “Yeah. Shifty’s got you matched with ours.”

With a shrug, Alice hooked her hatchet on her belt again. She nodded to them. “Haven’t had use for those skills recently. Nice to not be a sniper anymore.” When she saw how surprised Webb looked, she cocked her head to the side. “Surely you’ve heard rumors?”

“There are a lot of stories,” he admitted.

“I’ve heard them all, Webb.” With a tiny smile, she turned to Johnny, and then back to Webb. “Ask Johnny. He’ll give you some straight answers.”

“Where the fuck are you going?” Johnny asked, not happy.

She smiled. “To find Lip.”

Leaving them behind, she trudged off through the woods to find the First Sergeant. Likely he was wandering around, the same as her. Alice glanced at her watch: 1630 hours. No wonder the sun had already started to sink in the sky. 

The darkness made navigating more difficult. But she heard George’s voice and figured if anyone knew where Lip would be, it’d be him. Picking her way over fallen branches, Alice moved towards the sound.

When she got closer, she realized he was doing an impression of Dike. Immediately she smiled. But when she went to join George, Alex, Skip, and Malarkey, she realized Lipton stood close by. Alice hurried over to him. As she approached, he called George over.

After they both nodded at her, George took the cigarette out of his mouth. “What can I do for you, Sarge?”

“Two things. First, great impression of Dike.”

While Alice laughed, George just grinned. “You think so? I thought it was a little off.”

“Nah, you got it pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

“Second, don’t do it anymore. Especially the part about what he said to me.” Lipton’s smile fell. He shook his head. “It doesn’t do anybody any good.”

George’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Yeah, I gotcha.”

Flashing a small smile his way, Alice just shrugged. After catching her eye, he turned back to Lipton and did a spot-on impression of one of Dike’s famous yawns. Both Lipton and Alice cracked up.

“Wiseass.” Lipton shook his head, still smiling, as George left. He didn’t seem at all surprised as Alice joined him. He turned to her.

Then the world exploded.

The ringing in her ears didn’t fade, even as she and Lipton both half fell, half jumped into a foxhole to escape the cascade of explosions. In the commotion, Alice lost her helmet. All around them flashes of light and thunder-like, excruciating bangs created one of the most brilliant, and yet terrifying, spectacles Alice had ever witnessed. Blood rushed to her head. Alice couldn’t think. She acted on instinct as she covered her head and neck, driving her face into the freezing dirt.

Alice barely noticed when Lipton disappeared for a moment. But when someone slammed into the foxhole next to her, elbow driving into her rib, she gasped for breath. Through the shrieking bombs and splintering trees, Alice caught George Luz screaming at them.

“Muck and Penkala got hit!”

She froze. Briefly, she forgot about the danger. She uncovered her head and stared at George. He had scrambled to Lipton’s other side. Their eyes locked. But as another shell screamed overhead, Alice pushed her emotions aside out of sheer self-preservation.

As suddenly as the barrage had begun, it ended. Shouts to stay down echoed around them. Simultaneously, the thud of a shell hitting the ground not five feet from them made Alice, Lipton, and George freeze. But it didn’t explode.

Alice watched it, petrified. Her blood pounded in her ears. The ringing died down, and she could make out the heavy breaths of not only herself, but the two men next to her. All of them stared at the dud.

The speed at which George managed to wrestle out a cigarette touched something deep in her soul. Her body still wouldn’t move, or she’d have done the same. But seeing Lipton take the lit cigarette straight out of George’s mouth so he could take a deep inhale of the smoke so surprised her, that she found herself back in control.

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” George murmured.

Lipton stuck it in his mouth. “I don’t.”

Alice scoffed. She looked at Lipton and then at the cigarette. In a moment of impulse, Alice grabbed it from him and stuck it in her own mouth. The smoke filled her lungs. She sighed. Suddenly a cough wrecked her body. She held the cigarette away and hacked into her arm.

Her head fell back against the dirt of the foxhole when she’d finished. Alice knew that both Lip and George were watching her, but she didn’t care. She needed air, desperately.

“Jesus Christ, is that blood?”

At George’s shocked words, she opened her eyes. Sure enough, a bit of bloody phlegm had gotten on her sleeve. The dark blood somehow stood out even in the twilight. Alice didn’t have a response. She glanced at him, and then at Lipton, and let her head fall back again.

Then she shot back up. “Skip and Alex?”

George’s silence made both Alice and Lipton look his way. He had started sucking at a new cigarette. After taking it out, he sighed and let his head fall back. “Hit head on.”

As Lipton murmured a quiet curse under his breath, Alice just turned from George to the forest around them. The stars could be seen so clearly now, because the trees had been decimated. She’d thought the damage when they’d arrived at their foxholes had been bad. Child’s play compared to the total destruction around them now. A thought crossed her mind. Alice couldn’t believe it, when the thought became conscious.

But all she could think in that moment was that at least Skip Muck and Alex Penkala would never have to suffer again. They’d never feel the biting cold, or feel their blood pouring from their bodies. They’d never have to hear the sobs of their family and friends. Neither would have to go days without food. They’d just be happy.

So maybe they were the lucky ones; only the dead see the end of war.

But the ones they had left behind would have to suffer. Immediately her thoughts went to two people: Don Malarkey and Faye Tanner. Alice had shed so many tears over the past week that she couldn’t anymore. She couldn’t cry for Skip and Alex, she couldn’t cry for Malarkey, and she couldn’t cry for Faye. She couldn’t even cry for herself.

They were told to stay in their foxholes until morning.

Lipton took a few minutes to find Malarkey, to let him know what had happened. George radioed the CP. But after the initial work of getting a headcount, they’d all retired back to the foxhole for the rest of the night. They sat in silence.

It took half an hour for George to fall asleep. With his head on Alice’s shoulder, he’d all but collapsed from exhaustion and stress. But Alice and Lipton were both still awake. Lip had refused to let her smoke another cigarette after her coughing bout, much to her annoyance. She knew he was right, but she hated it.

“He’s asleep?” Lipton asked, looking closer.

Alice nodded. She turned her head a bit to look at him. He hadn’t trimmed his hair since coming to Bastogne and the sight of it blowing in the wind actually made her smile. Alice turned back to Lipton and nodded. “I’ve fallen asleep on him enough times. Figured I could let him do the same.”

Lipton nodded. He watched her carefully. After a brief pause, he spoke up again. “That cough is pretty bad.”

“It’s worse than I thought,” she admitted. “But I don’t have time to sit and rest. And even if I wanted to, where would I go? Battalion CP? It’s just as cold as here. Bastogne? Filled with piles of dead bodies.”

Even though he frowned at her, Lipton knew she was right. They didn’t have a choice right now. “Do the Docs have anything for it?”

“I’ll talk to Gene tomorrow.”

“This company needs you,” Lipton told her. “Don’t let a cough knock you out of this war.”

Alice nodded. With a tiny smile, she looked over at him. “I try.”

“This company needs good leaders. With Buck gone, and Guarnere and Toye knocked out…” Lipton sighed.

Her heart constricted at the memory of the recent days. He didn’t mention Malarkey, but she figured they both suspected how hard this would hit the other man. Skip, Alex, and Buck had been his three best friends, and Joe and Bill close after that. In a matter of a week, he’d lost most of his close friends. Alice sighed. “Lip, you’re a better leader than I am. I offer what help I can, but I can’t lead these men.”

“I think you underestimate yourself,” he said. “There’s more ways to be a leader than commanding troops, though. Easy needs you. You’re a source of humanity in this hell.”

“I’m a mess, is what I am,” she argued.

Lip huffed, laughing under his breath for a moment. He nodded. His gaze drifted between her, and George, and the destroyed forest around them. “Pretty sure this whole place is a mess.”

“You’re not wrong.”

He looked around and then back to her. With a sigh, he went to speak and then hesitated. After Alice prompted him, he frowned. “I’m worried about Dike.”

“Where was he?” Alice agreed. “Foley took charge.”

“Where is he ever?” Lipton muttered, under his breath. Then he spoke up. “I don’t know. But we’ll keep doing our jobs.”

She nodded. “That’s all we can do.”

They settled back into silence. The night dragged on. Around them, the carnage of the shelling spoke to the horrors they’d endured but a few hours before, and for three weeks. It took quite a while for Alice to drift off. Her mind dwelt on the terror. But Alice hoped that if she found sleep, she’d find some small amount of peace.


	16. Chapter 16

It seemed the only time Alice had a chance to talk to anyone for more than a brief moment was in the evening. The numbness, the inability to cry she’d experienced after the deaths of Skip and Alex, still hadn’t lifted. George, who Alice learned had actually seen them get hit, took most of the day by himself. But he did speak briefly to Malarkey, to check in on his friend. She decided to do the same.

The waiting infuriated her. Foy lay a few hundred yards away across the field. They had to go there. Why the hell they couldn’t go there now, Alice couldn’t figure out. In her brain, she knew it had to do with support and intel, but the fact remained that the longer Easy and the rest of Second Battalion sat in the treeline, the more people would die from artillery barrages. The Germans had them zeroed, and somehow knowing that made everything ten times worse.

By 2000 hours, Alice figured Malarkey would’ve finished seeing to Second Platoon and probably gotten himself back to his foxhole. Alice yawned as she went to find him. After a brief coughing bout, she nearly screamed in frustration. Earlier that day, Gene had managed to give her one of two doses of penicillin he had received. They could only hope it would knock out what Gene said was probably a nasty case of pneumonia.

The crunching snow beneath her boots reminded her of how cold she felt with every step. It hadn’t snowed in nearly a week which meant the previous layer had now been mixed up with dirt and tree bits, somehow even less appealing than a fresh blanket of snow. Alice sighed. Then she coughed, falling to her knees against a tree.

“Warum ich? Scheisse!” Alice heaved, trying to breathe. Her eyes watered as she continued to rattle off German curses. “Fick dich, Hitler.” She sputtered again, trying to breathe. “Ich hoffe du stirbst ängstlich. Und, ich hoffe du stirbst alleine.” With half a scream of anger, she grabbed a small but thick fallen branch and hurled it off into the forest.

She meant it, too. As Alice lay her head back against the tree truck, desperately trying to get enough oxygen, she tried to calm down. Anger pulsed through her. Suddenly, though she couldn’t cry, she could scream. And she would’ve, if she knew it wouldn’t wake up all of Easy and half the town of Foy.

“Someone pissed you the fuck off,” said Liebgott.

Alice opened her eyes. Lieb looked down at her with the stupid smirk he always had plastered on his face. Taking the biggest breath she could manage without starting another fit of coughs, Alice tried to calm herself.

He picked up a stick. For a moment he looked at it before tossing it aside. Then Liebgott turned back to her. “So, who’s gonna die scared and alone?”

“The mighty Führer.”

Lieb’s smirk only grew at her furious sarcasm. He shook his head. “One can only hope, right?” When she nodded, chewing at her lip, his smile dropped a bit. “That cough is fucking ugly. Does Doc have something for it?”

“He gave me some medicine today.” Alice sighed. After a brief pause, she heaved herself up with the help of the tree. “Hopefully it works.” Then she turned to him. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged. “Needed to stretch my legs.”

“Well be careful,” Alice told him. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “Says the woman wandering around a frozen battlefield with fuckin’ pneumonia.”

Alice just sighed. But with a frown she nodded. “Go on then. I’m heading to a foxhole. You should too.”

“Yes ma'am,” he said with a wink.

Alice half huffed, half laughed at his sass. But when he turned and walked away she just took another breath and steeled herself to keep going. She knew Malarkey’s foxhole wasn’t too far away. And indeed, after walking another few minutes, she found him sitting quietly alone in his foxhole.

“Hey Malark,” she said quietly. When he looked up at her, her heart broke a little. He looked so tired, drawn in ways she hadn’t seen him, ever. His eyes were a bit hollow. But she flashed him a small smile regardless. “I need a foxhole buddy. Mind?”

“Course not,” he said.

With his permission given, Alice scooted the couple feet down across from him. A few thoughts crossed her mind. First, her chest still ached. She guessed even Malarkey could hear the tight, scratchy wheezing of each breath. Second, how exactly she was going to get Malarkey to feel better had yet to come to mind. Her only thought had been to find him.

“Are you alright? I heard that cough’s getting worse.” Malarkey asked her, a moment later. He looked over at her in the dark.

The tiniest hint of a smile graced her features. She folded her arms over her chest. “Surviving.”

“Hmph,” he snorted. “Yeah.”

As she sat in silence, her mind played through a dozen ideas of where to start. Men had the unfortunate proclivity for not talking about feelings, and Alice had never been quite able to figure out a way around that particular tendency. Asking wouldn’t do. So in the end, she decided on a different tactic.

“Have I ever talked about my cousins?” Alice asked after a few minutes. Even trying her hardest, she couldn’t keep the emotion out of her voice.

He looked at her in surprise. “No.”

“I-” Alice suddenly found that her capacity for tears had returned. She shut her eyes and paused to collect herself. “I didn’t think so. I didn’t tell anyone, really. Harry pestered me about that.”

“How many cousins?”

“Three,” Alice replied. “Tomas, James, and Elsa. Our fathers were brothers. They uh, they lived in Arnhem, in the Netherlands. We visited sometimes.” Her voice caught again. She could feel her throat constrict, her eyes sting.

Malarkey took a moment to watch her. She could feel his gaze on her even as she refused to meet his stare. With a frown, he asked her to continue. “What happened to them?”

Though she smiled, she felt nothing but anguish. Her voice came out almost as a whisper. “I don’t know.” It took a few moments for her to collect herself. She shrugged, turning to look at Malarkey. “In Aldbourne, Vest found a set of letters for me from Elsa. She was younger than Bernadette, just a kid. I hadn’t seen her in years. The Germans,” she scoffed, correcting herself. “We are Germans. The Nazis came for the Jews of Holland the same way they came for us in France. They took the Jews away to some sort of, some sort of work camp? We think they’re being forced to build weapons.”

“Jesus Christ,” Malarkey breathed.

“The last letter hurt the most, I think,” Alice admitted. For a moment, she stopped breathing. Placing her hand in the innermost breast pocket of her fatigues. Her hand shook from both cold and anxiety. Once her fingers grasped the six pieces of paper she kept close to her heart, Alice froze. Then she pulled them out.

He looked at her in surprise. “You’ve got them with you?”

“Yeah. Always.” She took the most wrinkled one and put it to the front. Flipping open her silver lighter, she read the words in English. “Dear Addy.”

At the nickname, she and Malarkey looked at each other. She shrugged. He said nothing. Alice turned back to the letter to continue. “‘I think this might be it. I’m not really scared any more. Honestly, I’d like to think that in death at least there will be a release from this hiding place. Since the Allies landed in Normandy, the Germans have increased their retaliation against resistance.’”

Alice paused. That part had hurt her more than she ever wanted to admit. A small piece of her blamed herself for the retaliation, as she been in the Normandy Invasion. After a pause, she continued. “'I heard they started executing hundreds of people, some resistance and some not. There’s even been talk of the Germans starting to round up non-jews for the camps.” Her breath caught, reading the last bit. “'With love, Elsa Klein.’”

They settled into silence. Malarkey watched her, and Alice watched the words on the page. When at last she flicked the lighter closed, her heart constricted. She carefully tucked the letters back into the safety of her pocket. Feeling a bit more under control, she turned back to Malarkey.

“It sounds terrible, but after her letter, part of me is not only glad that my family died two years ago. But, I hope she got a quick death, too, at least.” Alice shook her head. “I don’t know if I could live knowing Bernadette or my parents, or Elsa and her siblings, lived in constant fear only to be forced to work for the people who hate us.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Skip and Alex got that too, at least,” she added quietly. “I’ve been telling myself that. It’s a small blessing, really.” With a quick glance, she added, “No one else knows about that last letter, Don. I’d appreciate it if we kept it that way. For now at least.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah of course.”

“The rest of us have to keep going for them, though.” Alice forced a small smile. “For Elsa, and Bernadette, and for Skip and Alex. If we give up, if we don’t end this fucking war… They died for nothing, then. I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It has to be for something.” He played with something between his fingers. In what little light fell around them from the moon and the stars, metal glinted in her direction. He finally showed it to her. It was a rosary, Skip’s rosary, that had always been in his breast pocket. He gave her a tiny smile. “Skip compared you to Joan of Arc, sometimes. Said if you’d been Catholic, you’d have given her a run for her money.”

Alice started laughing. With a gentle shake of her head, she couldn’t suppress her smile. “Of course he did. I’m not worthy of comparison to the great Jeanne d'Arc.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, there you go. That’s Skip for you.”

“Incorrigible, really,” she teased. “Especially with Alex.”

Malarkey let out another small laugh. “Yeah. Yeah they were.”

Silence fell between them again. She saw him playing with what was left of the rosary. His mind seemed to be working over time, not that it surprised her. Slowly, his smile dropped.

“How long did it take you?” Malarkey asked. “When your brother got killed. How long until you were… well until you moved on?”

She knew he must’ve heard her breath hitch because he straightened up a bit. Memories flooded in, memories of looking in the window from the streets of Paris, of watching the luger get pressed into her brother’s pale forehead. She shivered, somehow able to feel the cold hands of the SS officer trailed up her leg, between her thighs, and his other hand clamped tight over her mouth. She tried to release her breath calmly, but it sputtered out.

“Be honest with me, Malark. Do you feel blame for their deaths?” she asked a moment later.

He paused. Opening his mouth to respond, it shut before he could. His knuckles paled as he gripped the rosary. “Yeah, yeah I guess I do. Why them, instead of me, I suppose.”

She nodded. Her mouth dried. After a moment, she decided what to say. “I live with that blame every single day, Malark. For Marc.” Her hands trembled, her breathing, already constricted by the pneumonia’s grip on her lungs, making it even harder to stay calm. “I’m going to tell you something. Very few people know most of this. Nobody knows all of it, not even Nix,” she added.

“Right, okay.”

“Four days before Marc was killed, I, uh, did a job for a resistance group who we had contacts with. Usually I’d be a courier for them, helping bring documents to and from their contacts while I distributed the small newspaper me and my friends wrote. This was different though. This was bigger.” She paused again. “A German official, Shultz, a man of high rank, he was carrying plans for something big. They didn’t know what, but it was big enough that he had been recalled to Germany immediately.”

For a moment, Alice felt herself back there: back in front of the hotel where Shultz was staying, back in 1941, back where it started. She shook herself.

“To get the documents, they needed someone who spoke German fluently, and could pass as a German woman. Enter, me.” She glanced over at him. “I let him uh, have some fun. Then got him drunk.” She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see his expression. With a deep breath, she continued, “Got the documents, and got out. For four days, everything was fine. Until a member of the SS cornered me in a bar and identified me.”

_“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Miss Klein?”_

“He uh, he uh.” With a deep breath, Alice ran a hand through her hair, taking off her helmet. For a moment, she just tried to calm down. “Well. I killed him. Just acted on instinct, I guess? It wasn’t quiet. Marc and Robert found me, covered in blood, still holding the knife. Robert got me out through the window, but Marc insisted on staying to take the blame and throw them off my tail.”

“Jesus,” he whispered. “God, Alice, did he-”

Her voice fell. “Almost. You asked how long it takes, Don?” Alice shook her head. “Well, I thought I had managed to move past it, accepted it, moved on. But then on the Samaria…” She glanced up at him. “Either you know this part already and rumors got around, or they actually managed to keep it quiet.”

“Someone said you’d been punched breaking up a fight in Third Battalion,” Malarkey murmured. “I’m guessing that’s not true.”

Alice chuckled. But she didn’t feel amused. “No. After I punched Bill, I did end up in Third. A few of the men from H Company grabbed me, and I froze. Just, well I completely shut down. I couldn’t even remember anything about it beyond getting grabbed for several days. George, Bill, and Joe stepped in though, separated us before anything too uh, graphic, happened.”

Malarkey stared at her. “You serious? Who knows?”

“George, Bill, Joe,” she said, “Lip, Johnny, Bull, Tab, and uh, Gene. Plus Welsh, Winters, Nixon, and Speirs. And Sink, of course.”

A wave of exhaustion crashed over her. With a frown, she glanced over at him. Alice surprised herself when she appreciated the pity in his gaze, not scorning it. “Needless to say, I realized that day that I hadn’t gotten over it, any of it. Not the assault, not the mission, and definitely not Marc’s death.” But then she forced out a tiny smile. “However, I have learned to cope with it. I don’t think I’ll ever move on in a way where the giant hole in my heart mends itself. But you learn to manage it. And I don’t know that I’d want to stop feeling so much when I think about Marc. That would mean I really have lost myself.”

Malarkey stayed silent. Both took the silence to think, to consider what she’d talked about. Alice felt oddly better, having told Malarkey what happened. She’d told no one about any of it since the group found out on the Samaria. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the men in Easy. She did, the Toccoa men at least. But her words failed her every time she considered explaining her sudden winces after nightmares or flinching away from a pat on the shoulder.

“Alice?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She smiled at him. Her throat constricted and kept her from forming words. So she decided a simple nod would have to do. The blanket that Malarkey threw her felt as scratchy as all the other pathetic excuses for blankets, but she clutched it close, and laid down for sleep. Her total exhaustion consumed her immediately.


	17. Chapter 17

**January 12, 1945**

She couldn’t eat. Every time Alice looked at one of the canned meats or the trail mixes offered, she felt sick. Gene had given her the penicillin just a few days ago, and he told her he’d have another dose soon, but Alice already reached the point where it became hard to hide her distress. The cough that felt like it ripped her chest apart had been reduced a bit, but she could feel herself shaking like a leaf and not from the cold alone.

Staring at the food that Easy Company sat enjoying, she wobbled. Alice turned away and stood against a tree, closing her eyes, and trying to focus on getting enough oxygen. When Lipton walked over to her a few minutes later, she finally reopened her eyes.

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded. After taking a moment to look her up and down, he gestured towards the forest. Together they trudged off towards the Battalion CP.

“Are you going to say something?” Alice asked.

He looked at her for a moment. Then he nodded. “Yes. If I don’t, I don’t think I could live with myself.”

“Yeah. Yeah I know what you mean,” she said. “Dike’s a danger to everyone.”

“I just don’t want to put Captain Winters in a tight spot,” Lipton added. “He doesn’t need that.”

Alice laughed under her breath. No, Dick didn’t need any more drama. But she knew that he needed to know before tomorrow’s attack of Foy just what the men of Easy thought about their Company Commander. And, unfortunately for him, Lip was the man to do that.

“Trust me, Lip. Dick would want you to be honest about Dike. But,” she added, “that doesn’t mean he’ll be able to do anything. We talked about it before.”

“You have?”

Alice nodded. “After Hoobs’ death. Nixon, Winters, and I went over possible alternatives to Dike. And there were none,” she muttered.

He flashed her a tiny smirk, picking his way over a fallen tree. As she did the same, he shrugged. “You could.”

“Lip, no.” Alice shook her head. “Even if the brass allowed it, I do not have the patience to deal with the sort of politics that comes with leading men. Between dealing with someone above me, and what would surely be resistance against me from below, I won’t do it.”

He fell quiet. The familiar silence of the Ardennes fell around them. But then nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Even if I wanted to, that sort of resistance to my presence would cause harm to the company as much as to myself. It’s not feasible.”

“Yeah.”

A cough shook her. She hissed as a stabbing pain shot through her rib cage. Alice stumbled over a fallen tree. A few choice words flew from her before she could think and her heart pounded in her chest. “Ack! Goddamnit!” Alice slammed her fist in the tree trunk she’d grabbed to steady herself. 

Lipton watched her. He shook his head. “You’re getting worse.”

“I need a warm shower, a bed, and more than one dose of penicillin,” Alice snapped, straightening up. She put her back against the tree and shook her head. “But, seeing as I can’t get any of those, there’s not much to do other than try to take that stupid town.”

“Well, come on.” Gently pushing her forward, Lipton placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment. Her red cheeks had worried him since he’d seen her that morning, and based on the cough still destroying her body, he knew she was in no shape to be helping on the line. But, what she said was also true. “The sooner we report to Captain Winters, the sooner we go take that stupid town.”

She didn’t even mean to, but Alice leaned into his push a bit. The little extra pressure helped her stand. Soon enough, with the sun gone and the cold seeping through their meager clothing, they reached the Battalion CP. It surprised Alice that only a dozen or so men meandered around. 

“Hang here, Lip,” Alice said. “I’ll go find him.”

Lipton nodded. She left him standing outside the main tent used by the commanders and as she watched him take out a cigarette, she had to stop from laughing. She felt a bit ashamed to have been part of the reason that Lip had decided to pick up a smoking habit. But then, George and the German 88s had held equal responsibility in it as well. Unfortunately, because of her wheezing, Alice couldn’t hurry off through the CP. But after a few minutes, she finally found Dick speaking with a handful of Fox Company’s sergeants.

He caught sight of her when he turned away. “You brought Lip?”

“Yeah, he’s waiting.” She frowned at him. “How’s it been back here?”

“Busy,” he muttered. “Come on.”

She didn’t get any more from him. Dick moved off quickly, back towards where he knew Lip would be waiting. It took effort for Alice to keep up with him, and by the time they reached the tent, she had already started panting for air. Alice cursed herself in her mind.

“Lip, didn’t figure you for a smoking man,” Dick commented. He gestured for them to follow inside the tent. As Alice all but collapsed into a seat, Lipton stood by the door. After giving a runner a paper to take to Ron in Dog Company, he turned back to them. “So? Any news?”

Lipton looked at Alice first before turning back to Dick. “We’ve been watching Foy all day sir, not much activity.”

“Coffee?” Dick offered. When Lipton shook his head, he settled down near Alice and clutched his cup. “How’s Easy’s status?”

“The men are good sir, they’re prepared.” He stole a glance at Alice. He saw the pain in her eyes, and figured she could see the same in his expression. “I’m gonna be leading Second Platoon tomorrow. They’re probably the weakest after losing Toye and Guarnere, and Muck, and Penkala.”

Silence fell between them all. Alice’s eyes shut out of pure instinct. The mention of the wounded and deceased Toccoa men hit all of them hard. 

“But, uh, all and all, I have every confidence in the men, sir.”

Winters nodded. “Good.”

Alice watched Lipton shuffle where he stood. For a few moments, he seemed to teeter between two choices. She just hoped he would speak up. She planned to as well, once Lipton had left, but having Easy’s First Sergeant voices his concerns would help even more.

“But on the other hand, I have on confidence in our CO, sir.” Lipton looked at Dick as his head shot up from where he’d been examining his cup of coffee. He continued, “Lieutenant Dike is an empty uniform, Captain. He’s just, he’s not there sir.”

“Well, he’s gonna be there tomorrow,” Dick said, frustration evident in his sharp tone.

“Yes, sir, I understand he will be there physically. But tomorrow’s gonna be the real deal,” Lipton continued, not letting anyone stop him. His quiet, firm voice kept both Alice and Dick listening. “He’s gonna have to lead those men. He’s gonna have to make decisions, sir, and… I gotta tell you, sir. I think he’s gonna get a whole lot of Easy Company men killed.”

Alice nodded to Lipton and then turned to Dick. The man sat silent for a moment, clutching his tin cup, and watching Lipton. Then he nodded. “Thank you, sergeant. That’ll be all.”

“Yes, sir.”

With the dismissal, Lipton nodded to him, and then to Alice. She returned it immediately. Both Alice and Dick watched as Lipton left. Neither spoke. 

“He’s right, Dick,” Alice finally said. 

He turned in his chair to face her. Alice could feel herself slipping a bit from the exhaustion and chills. But she kept her head up and gestured off. Thankfully, the area only continued to darken so hopefully it hid her condition. Dick frowned.

“We’ve been through this,” he pointed out. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“It’s like Aldbourne all over again,” Alice muttered. She rubbed at her face, willing herself to stay awake. Then she glanced over at Dick. “Dike’s another Sobel.”

Dick took a deep breath. He looked at her. Holding her gaze for a few moments, neither spoke. They both knew the implications of that comment. Dick shook his head. “Well, I’ll walk him through the plan again tomorrow. He better pull himself together.”

“Lipton will be with him, that’ll help,” Alice agreed. 

Dick nodded. “He’s who I’d want there.”

“I-” A deep, painful cough ripped through her body. Alice couldn’t quite suppress a painful groan at the movement. Grabbing at her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will away the pain. “Ah! Schiesse!

“That’s getting worse, Alice.” Dick left no room for argument as he got up and found a blanket. He handed it to her. “You’re in no shape to be on the line right now.”

“I’m not an idiot, Dick,” Alice snapped. Shivering, she pulled the blanket around herself closer. “I know, ok! But what the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t enjoy having pneumonia, you know. But until we get out of the Ardennes, there’s nothing I can do but hope the next dose of Penicillin helps.” She shook her head, shutting her eyes for a moment before turning back to him. “I’m not stupid. I know it’s bad. I’m well aware that if it doesn’t get better, it could kill me. So please, don’t lecture me.”

“Fine, but you better keep Doc Roe in the loop with how you’re feeling,” he insisted. “And if you can’t handle this, tell me. I’ll put you on light duties.”

She accepted the cup of coffee he offered her from the burner. The warmth of the newly poured coffee in the metal tin cup made her feel a little better even just holding it. Alice nodded. “Fine.”

Even as they returned to a comfortable silence, Alice felt the pain in her right rib cage returning. She released an inaudible groan as it pierced all the way through into her upper chest. Instead she focused on her breathing and her coffee.

“You two look horrible.”

Dick and Alice both looked up to find Nixon in the doorway. He looked tired. In his right hand he held a K98k sniper rifle. Alice looked at him in surprise. When he didn’t get a response from either of them, he moved over to her.

“Here,” he said. Nixon handed her the rifle. “From Regimental. Third Battalion captured a sniper. Sink thought you could put it to better use than any of the Americans.”

She grabbed it from him. The gun fit into her grip immediately. She knew the weight, the smooth sides. Everything felt familiar. Alice nodded. “Thanks.”

Nixon nodded before grabbing a seat across from them. Gratefully accepting the cup of coffee that Dick passed him, he tried to warm his hands. “Everything’s set to go for tomorrow. I spoke with Item and the rest of Third; they’re as prepared as they’re gonna get. Not sure they’re too pleased to be playing the bait, though.”

“Well, they better accept it,” Dick muttered. 

Nixon eyed him in surprise at his harsh tone. Turning to Alice, he saw her struggling to even keep her eyes open. “Right. Let me guess, the arrogant rich jerk from Yale?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Dick agreed, adding a small scoff. He sighed and shook his head. With a yawn, he stood and placed his coffee cup on the table. “We should get some sleep. We’ve got a lot of work to do in the morning.”

Alice didn’t argue. With a quick goodnight to both of them, she ducked out of the tent. When her feet hit the snow, she stopped and groaned. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but Alice’s anger at her illness made everything feel a million times worse. All she wanted was some tea, a bed, a shower, and maybe even a book. Instead she was about to crawl into a foxhole with a German sniper rifle, her lungs filled with pneumonia, in order to try to rest up for the assault on Foy that they’d been working towards for a month.

The cold foxhole made her somehow even angrier. But as she took off her helmet and attempted to run her fingers through her hair, Alice just sighed. Her hands trailed over the wooden barrel of the Karabiner. She couldn’t tell if she felt nauseous from the pneumonia, or from the gun in her lap.

A pit formed in her stomach. Alice hated how natural the grip felt in her hands, how she could pull the trigger. The faces of the captured men like Franz that she’d spoken to in Bastogne reminded her of just how many soldiers in the German army fought out of misplaced love for their people and their homeland, not out of a desire to eradicate the Jews or conquer the world. All they wanted was to be respected, to be treated fairly. They wanted to do their families proud.

And Alice had the nerve to stare down the scope, look in their eyes, and fire a bullet into their heads.

She knew why. She had a job. Alice had a job to keep her friends, her men safe. She had a job to take back the land Hitler had stolen from his people. She had a job to end this war.

Her heart rate rapidly increased. Alice felt herself struggling to breathe, both from anxiety and from the pneumonia. Not for the last time did she wish she’d never taken the mission in Paris, never set foot in the Maquis, and certainly never trained to jump out of airplanes. She knew she had a fever. She could feel it when she touched her face, and the chills consumed her body. It didn’t help her turmoil at all.

What would her family think of her. She took German lives with a German gun, she herself one of them. Equally French, equally German. In the foxhole in the Battalion CP, her hands on the wooden Karabiner, Alice hated herself. She hated everything. She hated the war. She hated the world. 

But above all, Alice hated the way that she’d fire that gun tomorrow anyways.


	18. Chapter 18

**January 13, 1945**

  
Nothing moved in Foy. Past the edges of the trees, down the snow-covered field, the town the Germans occupied lay completely still. But Alice knew it wouldn’t be for long.

About a hundred feet remained between where Alice stood with Dick, Nixon, and Sink and the treeline. Around them, Easy Company moved about checking weapons and readying themselves physically and mentally. The Germans knew they were coming. They’d be ready. Easy had to be ready as well.

None of the officers spoke to each other. Alice stood against a tree behind and to the left of the other three staff officers. Arms across her chest, she could feel her left leg shaking from anxiety. So many things ran through her mind; Dike’s potential for failure, her own inability to even breathe correctly, Lipton at command of Second Platoon, they all made her brain work overtime. To their left somewhere she knew Dog Company stood ready to assist if need be. On the other side of them, Item Company led the rest of Third Battalion to cause a distraction.

A good plan, really. If executed correctly, they’d take Foy no problem. But with Dike in command, Alice knew that was a big if. Not that she could do anything. 

A thud pulled her attention away. Alice looked down. The rifle that had been leaning against her left leg now lay in the snow. She stared at it for a moment, unmoving. When she picked it up, dusting off the dirt and snow, the command of Easy to advance was given.

Alice pushed off from the tree. She stayed to the left of Dick, Sink, and Nixon. Her stress had tied her stomach up in knots and she had no desire to talk to anyone. Boots pounded against the ground. Her mouth dried. As Easy Company fled the trees, she moved up to the treeline at their rear. 

To her left, Alice saw Ron Speirs watching the battle with all the intensity she knew him capable of. Which was to say, quite a bit. To her right, Dick stood rigid, gun in hand. Beyond him, Sink, and beyond Sink, Nixon.

The roar of Easy’s machine gunners split the air. Suppressing fire, loud enough to give her a headache. Hopefully it would give the Germans in Foy a headache too. In the chaos of the dash to Foy, Alice saw at least three men go down. Then another. But Easy pushed on.

Until they stopped. Alice lost track of First Platoon, but Second and Third suddenly stopped in the middle of the field not fifty yards from the town itself. Alice watched in shock. They had no cover.

“What the-?” She whispered. “What the fuck are they doing?”

To her right, Alice heard Dick echoing similar words. Nixon had binoculars up, trying to figure out what exactly was happening. Her body tensed completely. They were all going to die. Foxhole fucking Norman was going to get Easy Company killed. She glanced to her left, to Dog Company. She saw Ron holding his gun closer. His men from Dog’s Second Platoon looked on as shocked as her.

Dick’s shouting tore her attention away from Dog. He held a radio and screamed orders into, probably at the unfortunate George Luz who ended up with the CO more times than was fair. The battle drew her attention back. Mortars began to explode near the men who had somehow managed to move to pathetic excuses for cover.

Every moment that passed brought Easy one step closer to total annihilation. The memory of Sobel ending up with a 90% casualty rate snapped unbidden into her thoughts. She gritted her teeth and moved forward a bit. Dick did the same, dropping the radio.

Alice saw someone move from Dike’s position behind some hay bales. First Platoon appeared again. But they were picked off one by one. She heard Dick breathe out a quiet, shocked ‘Jesus Christ’ at the sight. This was it. They were all going to die in Foy.

Something in Dick snapped at the same moment. He hurried forward, screaming for them to keep moving. Alice willed them to do the same. But before he could get too far, Sink ordered him back.

“You’re the battalion commander! Now get back here!”

Alice would’ve slapped Sink if she’d been next to him. As much as she respected the man, his words further reinforced her opinion on not being able to handle the politics of the Army. But Dick had had enough. She watched him storm pass Sink while he still yelled at him.

“Speirs!”

Alice whipped her head left. As Dick ordered him over, he passed her. Alice held her breath.

“Get out there and relieve Dike, and take that patrol on in!”

Ron didn’t even respond. He nodded and tore across the field towards Dike. She nearly smiled. She would have, had a mortar not exploded right where Ron had been running moments before. But as the dirt settled, Ron continued to run unscathed. Alice laughed, sinking into a crouch in exhaustion. Maybe they wouldn’t die in Foy. Not all of them, at least.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Alice witnessed the capture of Foy. At one point she stole a glance at the other men. Dick and Sink had no emotion on their face, but compared to the absolute livid anguish that Dick had shown earlier, she welcomed it. Nixon, on the other hand, had a stupid smile as he watched Easy and Item come together to wrestle Foy from the enemy.

Once they’d clearly taken the city, Dick had Dog Company move in to help with clean up. Alice continued to stand where she was, watching with a smile as the Americans moved into the town they’d been staring at for a month. With a nod to no one but herself, Alice followed Dog.

She moved across the field towards the town as quickly as she could, rifle in her hands. To the left of the entrance of town, at least fifty German prisoners sat on the ground, hands on their heads. Alice forced herself to keep walking. She found Dick Winters and Colonel Sink talking to Norman Dike. She restrained herself from spitting in his direction.

The sight of Perconte being helped by Bull with a piggyback ride made her stop and grin. She shook her head. “Where’d you get hit, Perco?”

“Shot me in the ass, Alice,” he shouted back. 

She laughed at him. “Good. Keep up the tradition.” As Bull passed her, she gave him a pat on the arm and a smile before heckling Perconte. “Have fun in the hospital. I’m sure you’ll impress them with your sparkling teeth.”

“Shut up! You wish you had teeth like me.”

With another laugh, Alice shook her head and continued on into town. The buildings lay mostly cracked and broken, bricks tumbled out into the street or gone completely. Smoke rose from a few. As she walked into the main square, two dozen more German men were herded past her. A few glanced her way in shock.

She found Johnny, Lip, Malarkey, and Talbert standing together near a half wall. They chatted quietly, none of them looking particularly pleased. With a frown, she made her way over. 

“I saw Perconte got hit,” she commented. When she moved to stand with them, Alice folded her arms across her chest as best she could with her rifle. “Casualties?”

“A lot of the replacements,” Johnny told her. “Webb included.”

Alice felt her shoulders sag. But as she turned from Johnny to the battlefield, a deep anger settled in her body. “Dick better relieve him, or I’m going to murder Dike.”

None of them responded. She bet they’d have liked her to act on the threat. But before she turned back, movement and laughter in the main area grabbed her attention. “Shit.”

“What?” Talbert tried to see what had caught her eye.

Alice sighed. “Correspondents. That’s my cue.”

The men in question strolled into the town of Foy grinning from ear to ear. One of them carried a camera tripod and the other two had various paraphernalia for said camera. With a sigh, she nodded to the sergeants and moved away further into town. 

Laughter, song, and tears spilled out from various places around her. As she walked through the broken town, littered the dead bodies both German and American, Alice found her jovial mood quickly disintegrating. Blood pooled in between the cobbles. 

The rifle in her right hand felt heavier by the minute. The rush of adrenaline that had kept her standing at the treeline now created a crash of exhaustion as it left her. She needed food. Alice hadn’t eaten much in the past day or so. That morning, when Spina had brought her the second dose of Penicillin, he’d torn into her about it. 

Suddenly a shot rang out. A single bullet, definitely fired from a rifle. Alice instinctively moved to cover by an overhanging door. Screams filled the air, shouts for a medic. Another shot, and another scream. Alice tried to calm down. The shot came from nearby. Then came two more. 

She saw him. Upper window in a building to her left. Alice readied her gun. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She looked down the scope.

He had blue eyes. 

Alice stopped breathing. She couldn’t tear herself away from his face in her rifle’s sights. The soldier couldn’t have been any older than her. Blood splattered across his cheek from a small cut.

Another shot rang out. It jerked her attention away. She saw someone slump to the ground. The terrible realization that she’d cost him his life hit her like a jeep. At the same moment, Lipton went dashing from cover. Someone else took the shot. The sniper crumpled.

Cheers went up as Lipton slid down the side of a building in exhaustion. Shifty Powers, grinning from ear to ear, stepped into the street. He waved back as Lipton sent him a gesture of thanks. While medics tended to the fallen men, Alice felt herself slipping. She leaned against a wall for support. She swayed.

“You look like shit.”

Alice forced her eyes open from where she’d slid down the wall. Ron Speirs walked over to her, Lipton with him. The fact that she didn’t bite back a retort seemed to make them both concerned though. It only took a few seconds for Lipton to shout for Doc Roe.

“Can you breathe?” Ron asked immediately. 

“Yeah,” she forced out. Alice tried to blink her eyes open. “Kind of."

As he inspected her up and down, Lipton and Gene hurried over. The medic immediately grabbed her hands, pushing her sleeve up to get access to her wrist. He shook his head. “Her pulse is fast an’ I can already tell she’s burning up. Probably dehydrated. Spina told me she hadn’t been eating.”

She shuddered. “I’m not dead. I can hear you.”

“You may not be dead, but sometimes I wonder if you’re deaf.” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be takin’ it easy. That includes drinking water and eating.”

“There’s a few houses we cleared for overnight,” Ron told him. “We can move her there.”

Gene nodded. “Come on, Alice.”

With Lipton’s help, she stood off the ground. After a brief wobble, she followed Ron, flanked by Lipton on her left and Gene holding her up on her right. The houses that still stood enough to be used as a CP weren’t far, and soon enough she’d been deposited on a couch. Alice passed out before she could accept coffee that Lipton offered to get her.

When she woke up she could hear Ron chatting with what sounded like Dick. As she clawed her way to consciousness, Alice wondered at the fluffiness she felt around her body. When she opened her eyes, she realized she had a quilt over her. 

“Is this an actual blanket?” she muttered.

“Jesus Christ, Alice. Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?” Ron snapped.

Alice just rolled her eyes. But apparently Dick wasn’t about to let it drop either. “Alice, you’re going to follow Easy Company at the rear until we get pulled off the line or moved somewhere where we aren’t attacking towns, is that clear?”

She bit her lip but nodded. “I swear I will murder Dike if he’s a problem, though, even from the rear.”

Dick huffed and flashed Ron a tiny smirk. He looked back at her. “Dike won’t be a problem any more. Speirs is taking over Easy.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, and my first command is that you sit your ass out so you don’t die in the middle of a battle from pneumonia,” he insisted. 

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not actually a part of Easy anymore. And we're the same rank.”

Dick scoffed. “In this instance, I agree with Speirs one hundred percent, and we're not the same rank. Doc Roe said he hopes the fever breaks soon, and when it does, you’ll be getting better. But until the Penicillin kicks in, you’re not using a gun.”

“Fine by me,” she muttered.

Dick nodded. “Good. Then drink your water. Doc said he’d be by with food for you before the enlisted all go to bed.” He nodded to her and to Ron before heading off to find the busy Lewis Nixon. They had to plan their next move.

“Thank God you’re taking over Easy,” Alice said a moment later. “They’ve been through enough. They need someone who’s good at his job.”

Ron nodded. “Well, your men can hold their own. The Toccoa men, at least.” He moved further into the room and lit a cigarette. Soon enough he’d sat down across from her and continued on. “I’ve always been mildly impressed by your NCOs. And your medic, Doc Roe?” At her nod, he continued on, “He clearly knows what he’s doing. The officers may be shit, but they're not.”

“Trust me, I know. And you’re lucky you’ve got Lipton as your First Sergeant.” Alice smiled. “I swear, Ron, he’s the only reason Easy’s still in one piece.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. For nearly half an hour, Alice told him all about how great of a leader Carwood Lipton was, and had been, since Toccoa. His ability to balance the morale of the men and yet keep himself at a professional distance had always impressed her. Alice told him all about Bastogne, and how when Dike would wander off and the platoon leaders wouldn’t know how to interact with the enlisted, it was Lipton who’d kept everyone together.

“Honestly, Ron, he’s the best thing in this company.”

Ron’s cigarette had long since died. He’d listened intently, never interrupting her. Finally he nodded. “Good. Because Winters put him in for a battlefield commission. We lost your Lieutenant Foley today to a bullet wound. It’d be good to see Sergeant Lipton get the nod in his place.”

Alice grin grew with each passing word. But Ron didn’t say anything else, just glanced at his watch. “I need to go see Sink. You should sleep.”

“I won’t argue with you,” she said. Alice laid her head back against the pillow of the couch. “But if you see Nix, tell him I’d appreciate some Vat 69.”

Ron scoffed and shook his head. Alice watched him go. A yawn overtook her, and suddenly she remembered how tired she felt. With the quilt providing a deep warmth, Alice snuggled into the couch as best she could and tried to sleep. Things were already looking better. No more Dike, no more foxholes, no more Foy.


	19. Chapter 19

**January 17, 1945**

_Rachamps, Belgium_

* * *

For three days, Alice had been forced to stay in Foy. She and a dozen other sick men had taken up residence in the houses that had been spared by the war. It annoyed her, but she understood the necessity to keep her indoors and dry. Every day she waited, she received news on Easy’s advancement. Finally, on the 17th, the men had taken their last small town near Bastogne. 

The medics who had been tending to them agreed she’d improved enough to rejoin the company at Rachamps, provided she didn’t go into combat with them should that occur. Alice wasted no time. Her cough lingered, throat scratching and dry with every breath she took. Her fever had broken the day before and, while still present, had drastically fallen.

The jeep took her to Rachamps that evening. By the time they arrived about forty minutes later, the sun had set completely. The purples and reds that had dyed the sky were replaced with a star-studded black. She watched it in silence. 

The jeep left her standing at the entrance of town. Alice found herself looking up in the sky at the small crescent of the waxing moon. As she watched it, the memory of her mother playing the Debussy piece Clair de lune in their living room flooded her mind. Why it had decided to come back to her as she stood in the broken Belgian town of Rachamps, Alice didn’t know. But it had.

“Lieutenant, good to see you back.”

Alice turned to her right, distracted. Private Vest had several packages in his arms as he moved across the town. She nodded. “Thank you. Easy?”

“Head straight in, to the convent. They’re all in there,” he told her.

She didn’t move even after he’d walked away. Rachamps didn’t sound nearly as chaotic as she’d come to expect. Her watch read 2100 hours, so she supposed the men were probably trying to grab what sleep they could. With a sigh, she started into town.

Brick buildings rose up on all sides. It surprised her how in tact Rachamps seemed, despite the war. The steeple of the convent she made towards towered into the sky. The building had been painted white over the bricks with dark tiling for the roof and around the windows. Light spilled out from the stained glass. She looked at it in awe. 

Alice moved to the main doors. She could hear music inside, the melodies of angelic voices intertwining with the harmonies of a piano. Alice closed her eyes. Even standing beyond the door felt like paradise. But after a moment, the desire to be closer to the hymns pulled her in. Alice placed her hand on the metal ring of the door. It opened silently, despite the weight of the wooden doors. The beauty that opened up before her eyes stopped her in her tracks yet again.

A hundred candles or more stood lit around the center of the church. It was small, housing maybe a hundred or so people in all. On one side, near what looked to be an altar, two dozen or so young people and children stood serenading the gathered paratroopers. Nuns wearing black and white habits moved about tending to the men. One directed the choir. But the way the candles flickered and danced in the gentle air of the convent struck Alice speechless.

After a month of hiding in dirty, wet, frozen foxholes under the constant threat of death, this Catholic convent really did seem like heaven. It took her a full minute before she could tear her eyes away from the candles and look around. To her right and her left, wooden pews lined faced the center. At least fifty men of Easy sat in absolute silence. They looked to be as transfixed as her.

She saw Liebgott near the front, hunched over the pew in front. He looked absolutely spent. But as she looked around, Alice saw that everyone had the same expression. Exhaustion permeated every inch of every soul in that room. Though she noticed Shifty talking to one of the nuns. He had a small smile on his face. It made her smile as well.

The more Alice scanned the group, the more familiar faces she saw. Almost everyone who she’d been close to who had survived Bastogne was there. This brought great comfort to her. In the paradise of the convent, with the serenade of angelic voices to fill the space, she relaxed.

Her eyes found George sitting absolutely still on one end of a pew. To his right across an aisle, Perconte lay on a litter, and to his right, Gene. To George’s left, Lipton sat with his back against the wood of the end of the pew. He scribbled away at a pad of paper. The sight didn’t surprise her. Lipton never stopped. Beyond him, she saw Ron.

Alice picked her way around as unobtrusively as she could. She nodded and flashed small smiles at any of the men who looked her way. But not many did. When she managed to reach the place where Gene had set up with Perconte, she sidled in behind them. 

“Hey, Perco,” she said quietly. Alice smiled at him and patted his arm. “How’s the wound?”

“Alice!” he turned around in surprise. Though he kept his voice low, his quick movement pulled the attention of all the men around them. “Not dyin’ anymore?”

“I never was,” she argued.

Gene shook his head and sighed. “You would’a if you’d kept up the way you were goin’, cherie. The Docs cleared you?”

“I didn’t bust out of Foy, if that’s what you mean. My fever’s down, I can eat, and I can breathe a bit better too,” she assured him. “Not dying.”

He nodded. “Good.” 

They fell back into silence. The power of the french hymns kept them calm, relaxed. Alice felt good for the first time since Paris. She could feel her heart beating. It made her feel alive. After a few minutes, she laid a hand on both Perconte and Gene. With a small, encouraging smile, Alice slipped into the aisle.

She slipped up to the front row. With a light tap on George’s shoulder, she smiled and nodded at him. Without a word, he smiled back. Alice slipped in next to him. Turning to look down the pew, she sent Lipton a smile and a nod as well. He returned it.

“You good?” George asked, lowering his voice. He looked her over where she sat next to him. “Docs cleared you?”

“I’m feeling better, but not great,” she admitted. “Since we’re heading back to Mourmelon, they sent me back here.” 

As he’d examined her, she took the time to check him over. He looked tired, very tired. And he seemed more sad than she’d ever remembered seeing him before. Like with all the men, he’d not shaved in weeks, nor cut his hair. The cut he’d gotten on his cheek had scabbed over. He looked like a mess.

He frowned. “What?” 

With a sigh, Alice shook her head and looked away, back towards the young choir. “I wish I could fix this. You. Everyone. Everything is a mess right now. I guess I’m starting to wonder if this war is even worth it, George.”

The frown on his face only deepened. George shook his head a bit before letting it lay back against the wood of the pew. “I don’t know. I got no answer for that.”

“Neither do I. I keep telling myself that we need to win it for everyone who’s died, but is there any logic in letting more people die for that?” Alice sighed. “I don’t know.”

“What, like, a logic in sacrifice?” George frowned and glanced her way. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess.” 

George sighed. After a moment he nudged her with his shoulder and then gestured to the space where the choir sat. Beyond them, on the wall, a crucifix hung. “I mean, I know you’re Jewish so this isn’t your thing, but Jesus died for people. Saved them all by getting killed.”

Alice hummed. She knew what Christians believed. She’d had a few Christian friends, had seen the imagery. Catholic churches were everywhere in France. The image of the supposed Son of God hanging from a cross had scared her as a child. 

She turned to George. “But that’s self sacrifice, George. Theoretically, he made a choice to die in the place of other people.” She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the same as a bunch of drafted men being forced to fight and die for a people other than their own.”

He didn’t respond. After a brief silent exchange, he looked away and back at the choir and the crucifix. She didn’t pester him. Alice had about the same amount of answers as he did: none. But as she thought about the justice and logic in sacrifice, her mind wandered to Elsa. Before she knew what she was doing, Alice had taken the letters out and stared down at them.

 _“Dear Addy,”_ they always started.

Alice sighed. Her head settled back against the wood. As she lay there, eyes closed, Alice threw her mind into the music. The choir sang in french, alternating between hymns and folk songs. It didn’t take long for her to catch the melody of the one they sang and without thinking, she joined in. Her voice caught the harmony, not forming words, but matching the notes and tones. As the women chanted on, Alice tried to release all her tension into the music.

Her harmony only faltered when she heard Ron talking to Lipton to her left. Still she kept her eyes closed. Her smile grew as she listened in. After Lip assured his new Commanding Officer that the men were just glad to have a competent person in charge, Ron flipped it on him. He began to list all the things that had been done for Easy already by their leader. Though Lipton didn’t respond, didn’t catch the meaning behind Ron’s words, Alice did. Ron listed every single thing she’d told him about how fantastic Lipton himself had been for Easy. 

“You don’t have any idea who I’m talking about, do you?”

“No, sir.”

After a pause, Ron replied, “Hell, it was you First Sergeant. Ever since Winters made Battalion, you’ve been the leader of Easy Company.” 

Alice looked over as he paused. She couldn’t help the grin on her face as Ron made to leave. Lipton looked totally blown away. Then Ron stopped, and turned back around. “Oh, and you’re not gonna be a first sergeant much longer, First Sergeant.”

“Sir?”

“Winters put in for a battlefield commission, and Sink approved on your behalf. You should get the official nod in a few days. Congratulations, Lieutenant.” Ron nodded at him. Looking past Lipton for a moment, he nodded to Alice before heading out of the church. 

Not long after, the choir left for the night. Alice didn’t move from her seat though. The candles still burned, and while the candles burned, she would wait. George had fallen asleep next to her, leaning against the end of the pew. To her right, Lipton now sat looking at the altar on the far side.

About a dozen other men still remained in the church with them. The others had left to catch some sleep or find food or smokes. The sound of flickering candles and shifting bodies in wooden seats made up the only noise in the otherwise silent paradise. Alice took a deep breath. To her relief, she could do it without choking to death on mucus.

When her eyes turned to Lipton, she found him looking depressed. She frowned. “Lip, what’s up?”

He sighed and moved over closer to her. In his right hand he held the papers he’d been working on for the better part of an hour, or perhaps longer before she’d come in. “Roster count. We lost well over half the men in Bastogne,” he muttered. “We’re down to sixty-three.”

Alice felt like she’d been punched. She’d kept moderate track of casualty counts from Easy while at Battalion, but the full combined total over the past month hit her like a sucker punch. Alice had no response.

Was it worth it? What was the logic in sacrifice? Turning from Lipton’s anguished face back to the crucifix that hung from the wall at the other side of the church, she just fell silent. In the silence of the convent, she tried to return to her prior state of relaxation. But suddenly she found the silence oppressive and longed for the hymns. Before she knew what she was doing, Alice had stood from the pew. 

She only spared the crucifix one more look before stalking out of the convent. Sacrifice. She shuddered. These men had sacrificed enough. 


	20. Chapter 20

Every time Lip coughed, Alice cringed. For a single night, Easy Company had rested in blissful peace, confident in their impending departure from the front lines. But then they’d woken up. Not only had they all woken up to the news that the Americans had retaken, again, the town of Haguenau and the 101st were being sent to occupy it, but poor Lip had woken up with a nasty cough. Everyone hoped it didn’t mean he’d gotten the pneumonia still plaguing Alice.

She’d been given a spot in a troop truck with Gene and Spina. She’d been sent back to Easy under the assumption that they’d be moving out for Mourmelon-le-Grand. Clearly that wasn’t happening. She’d willingly agreed to spend her time with the medics. Despite her fever having gone down and her appetite somewhat returned, the cough lingered and she’d been sorely depleted of strength.

Alice sat next to George, and to his right, Lipton on the edge of the truck. So far he only had a cough, no fever or chills. To her left, Pat Christenson sat messing with a pencil and scrap of paper. He was always drawing, whenever he could get a spare minute, something Alice found admirable, especially because he had real talent. Also in the truck sat Bull, Malarkey, Gene, Spina, Babe, Ramirez, Talbert, and Liebgott. A couple of their most recent replacements rounded out the group.

At one point that morning they got a laugh at First Battalion’s expense. Charlie Company strolled along the side of the road. As soon as George noticed who it was, he’d heckled them, much to the amusement of the truck filled with Easy Company. His jab about them “shitting in their foxholes” on the line was an obvious and well received callback to when Joe Toye had ranted about it in the Ardennes. Alice had heard the story. It sounded just like Joe: calm, cool, and collected until someone did something stupid enough for him to go completely, well and truly, off.

Now, an hour into the ride south and east, they’d quieted down. Conversations were struck between those sitting together in an effort to pass the time and alleviate stress. With George occupied chatting with Lip, she turned to her left. Over his shoulder, Alice watched the sketch Pat tried to do on the bumpy road. He’d managed to sketch out an eagle, its beak wide, shrieking into the empty page.

After a little while, he turned to her. She gave a short laugh and apologized. “Sorry. You’re just so good.”

Pat shook his head. With a small smile, he led it out a bit further. “Thanks. It’d be better if we weren’t in a truck.”

“That goes without saying,” she joked. 

They fell back into a comfortable quiet. Alice continued to watch him work. All around them, the cold countryside of Belgium and then France passed by. Muddy roads and fields, occasional snowy patches, everything looked bleak. At some point she realized pretty much everyone had fallen silent. At least, silent until George poked her in the arm.

“Sing somethin’.”

“What?” Alice looked at him in confusion. 

But he looked totally serious. And then he started to smirk, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He pointed at her. “Sing.”

She’d never been particularly self conscious, but with the drastic change from silence to total attention on her, she froze. But George just continued to grin at her. Immediately she looked at the others. They watched her, expecting something.

“You’re serious?” When George just laughed, she sighed. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Alice turned away. But she couldn’t stop herself from smiling when she had an idea. “Pat, you can sing.”

The man next to her choked on the water in his canteen. A few of the men started laughing at his shock. Once he had his sputtering cough under control he looked at her. She just smiled back.

“I’ll start, you join in.”

“How do you know I know the song,” he objected.

Alice chuckled but didn’t answer. Instead she just smiled at him and started singing the lovely Vera Lynn’s hit, We’ll Meet Again. “We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when! But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day!”

The whole truck burst out in applause and laughter. They all knew that one; she’d known they would. Even Lipton and Malarkey who had been the most withdrawn all day couldn’t help but smile.

“Keep smiling through, just like you always do,” she continued, “'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.”

With a grin, Pat continued with the next bit. “So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know. Tell them I won't be long. They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go, I was singing this song.”

“We'll meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. But I know we'll meet again some sunny day,” Alice finished. She nudged George and he grinned.

Pat, Alice, and George took up the chorus. “We'll meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. But I know we'll meet again some sunny day. Keep smiling through, just like you always do, 'til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.” Half way through, Gene, Tab, Babe, Ramirez, and Lieb joined in.

Alice started laughing when Liebgott cursed out Spina for joining in. The man was infamous for his poor voice. She just raised her voice higher and continued on. “So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know. Tell them I won't be long. They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go, I was singin' this song!”

“We'll meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.” All of them, minus a pouting Spina, finished it with a rousing cheer.

Alice coughed a couple times into her arm, searing pain shooting through her chest. But she still found it hard not to smile at their antics. George patted her on the back a couple times. She glared at him. “Not helping.”

He just snickered around his cigarette. Just like that, the tension around the truck faded. The men returned to their conversations, Liebgott heckling Spina. Eventually he turned to Gene, but the lead medic wanted nothing to do with it. So Spina shouted for Babe. Both being from Philadelphia, Babe stuck up for him.

In the end, it was concluded that Spina should not, for any reason, attempt to sing unless he had a death wish. To be honest, Alice thought that conclusion had been reached back in Bastogne after he’d tried to join Liebgott and Alley’s mini USO performance in the foxholes. 

Alice fell back against the truck and just sat watching them with a smile on her face. She loved this. She’d missed this, this side of the Toccoa men, and apparently Babe. Perhaps Babe could just be considered an honorary Toccoa man. After a while, she turned to George. He and Malarkey and Lipton were chatting. Despite his overgrown hair, scabbed cheek, and unshaven face that looked the exact same as the night before, he seemed infinitely better. 

Funny how getting off the line to go to a new part of the line managed to improve everyone’s moods so drastically. Just leaving Bastogne had done that. A testament to the hell they’d endured, she decided. 

It took three weeks to reach their target thanks to constant interruption by the Germans. On a wet, snowy February 9th, after various skirmishes along the way, Easy Company rolled into Haguenau. It looked horrible. The men they’d be relieving, the 313th Infantry Regiment of the 79th Division, mulled about looking cold and depressed. They clambered into troop trucks, casting glances that seemed to be an odd mix of awe and annoyance, towards the arriving paratroopers.

Alice still had a bad lingering cough, but it was nothing compared to the hell that had finally hit Lipton. The hopes that he hadn’t caught her pneumonia had been shattered a few days prior when his fever escalated and his breathing became erratic. Now Gene and Spina had to worry over him, not her. She would’ve been grateful for the reprieve if it hadn’t come from the suffering of Sergeant Lipton.

Her cough still sounded ugly, though. Because of how much she still wheezed, Gene insisted she stay out of the cold. Especially with the snow returning, he watched her like a hawk when they pulled in to make sure she didn’t run off.

So with a terribly sick Lipton on her left, Alice wandered into the main building the were setting up as a command post. When she stepped inside and saw the oriental rugs on the floor, in tact but covered in dirt and dust, she almost stopped. Most of the windows were smashed in and glass and wood swept to the walls out of the way. Each wall had white wood moulding a third of the way up where it then became a blue and gold floral wallpaper. Had it been intact, the whole house would’ve blown Alice away.

As it stood now, it still impressed. When she walked in, Gene told Lipton he’d be back with medicine as soon as he could track some down. With a long stare at Alice that screamed “don’t do anything stupid” he moved away. Ron, Vest, and George sped off in different directions also.

“Lip, sit down,” Alice insisted. She watched him walk around the house, looking for things to do. Her heart ached every time he coughed. “God... Lip!”

He turned back to her slowly, face full of agony. But he just shrugged. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Lip, I swear, I will go get Speirs myself and sic him on you if you don’t find a couch and sit down,” Alice ordered. “Don’t make me pull rank.”

He glared at her. With a nod, though, he moved towards the central room. A couch with red cushions and brown wicker back sat in the middle. She flagged down George as Lipton sank into it.

“George, find a blanket for him if you can,” she asked.

He nodded, cigarette hanging from his mouth. With a glance over her shoulder, he saw Lipton shivering on the couch. “Yeah, yeah ‘course. Gimme a minute, ok?”

She just nodded. A few chairs sat along the wall. Her wheezing sapped her of energy and after catching a pointed stare from Lipton, she sank down along the wall in a chair to wait for the medics again. Alice shut her eyes.

“Sergeant Lipton? Feeling alright?”

The voice tugged her back to the present moments later though. David Kenyon Webster, standing in the doorway looking pristine, glanced around at them in the crumbling living room. Alice had heard the boys saying he was back, but she hadn’t seen him yet.

George completely ignored Webster in favor of dragging a blanket back over to Lipton. “Look what I found,” he said with a grin. Then he tossed a second one over to Alice before turning to Webster. “He’s got pneumonia.”

Webster frowned. “Sorry to hear that.”

George scoffed and shook his head. “Yeah, what are you sorry about? He’s alive, he’s got a couch, a goddamn blanket. He’s snug as a bug.” 

Lipton, Alice, and George shared a look. Even just the first statement, the fact that he was alive, meant a whole lot. And Alice hadn’t had a couch. But with the two men looking over at her, Webster did too.

“Lieutenant,” he added quickly.

“Webster,” she added. “You look good. Leg heal up?”

“Yeah, yeah. Yeah, thanks.” Webster watched George hurry off further into the house. With a frown, he turned back to Lipton. “Sergeant Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in Second Platoon.”

Under his warm, brown blanket, Lipton nodded. He waved at him with his small report he was reading. “Have a seat Webster, we’ll get you situated.”

He did so. Settling on a piano bench just to the left of the entrance way, he offloaded his rifle and settled in looking cautious. “How long have you been sick?” he ventured.

Alice snorted, and Lipton looked from her back to Webster. He shrugged. “Long enough.”

“Right.” Webster watched Lipton for another moment. After the man didn’t add anything, he glanced over at Alice.

Alice watched him closely. She tried to keep her annoyance off her expression. After all, she didn’t know really why she felt annoyed; Webster had done nothing wrong. He’d been a good soldier, had fought with them through D-Day and Market-Garden and at the Island. He’d even been wounded in action. She’d never particularly liked him; she found him a bit too ready with knowledge that oftentimes wasn’t even true. One particular instance, where he’d mentioned Nuenen as the birthplace of Van Gogh, she held her tongue but had wanted nothing more than to correct his false information. Van Gogh had been from Zundert.

But he was kind, and she held a certain respect for his refusal to accept promotions as a way to express his dislike of the war. He did his duty and never let anyone down. But his wound had been minor, and he’d not come back to them. 

Plus, his German could use some work.

“Unfortunately, Lip owes me for the pneumonia,” she said with a sad smile. “So don’t work him too hard trying to find a platoon, Webster. I couldn’t live with myself if it killed him.”

She said it with a smile. Even Lipton let out a small laugh. But Webster looked at them in concern.

“You had pneumonia, Lieutenant?” He looked her over.

She nodded, but Lipton cut in before she could say anything else. “She caught it in Bastogne, and fought the whole siege with it. This is heaven compared to what she had to deal with back there in addition to the pneumonia.”

“Lip, don’t talk so much. Focus on your breathing,” Alice ordered. But then she turned back to Webster. “Trust me, if I’d had the option I’d have been on a couch in a house back there. I did what anyone else would’ve done. We were out of options.”

“Yeah,” he said, warily, “I’m sure.”  
Heavy footfalls sounded from around the corner. They all turned to the entrance way. Around the corner came a young man, ODs beautiful and face clean shaven. His helmet had a Lieutenant's bar. At his entrance, Webster, Private Vest, and even Lipton attempted to stand.

Alice didn’t. She examined him from her spot along the wall. He couldn’t have been older than she had when she’d joined the Airborne. As he asked if it was Easy’s CP, and Lipton affirmed it, he looked around the room.

“Lieutenant Jones looking for Captain Speirs.”

“He’s on his way sir, why don’t you sit down.” Lipton, ever the gentleman, gestured to a nearby seat. Then he turned to a private who entered the room. “Can you get me a coffee?” When the man nodded, Lip turned to Jones. “Would you like a coffee sir?”

“No, thank you.”

At that moment, Lieutenant Jones noticed Alice for the first time. He paused mid step. Alice didn’t break eye contact. After a moment, Lipton jumped in to introduce them.

“Lieutenant Jones, this is First Lieutenant Alice Klein,” he said.

He eyed her carefully for another second before nodding, and offering a small salute. He looked totally confused, but it impressed her that he showed her the respect of a superior officer anyways. Alice decided to smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant,” she said. 

As he went to say more, George Luz and Ron Speirs both walked into the room. Jones straightened up immediately. The others did so to varying, often minute, degrees. Alice couldn’t hide a smile at the sight of Ron holding a beautiful antique clock in his hands.

Lipton gestured to the new officer. “Cap’n Speirs, this is Lieutenant Jones-”

But Ron had had enough with Lipton not taking care of himself. “Listen, for Christ's Sake, will you go back in the back and sack out! There’s some beds back there with fresh sheets!”

“I will, sir, I’m just trying to make myself useful-”

When Alice laughed, Ron spun on her. “Goddamnit, you’re no better. Go to bed! You almost died a few weeks ago and you still look and sound like shit.”

The glare she sent him would’ve scared a normal man. But Ron Speirs was not normal, she knew, and as such he merely shook his head and pointed back into the house. Only the appearance of Dick and Nixon saved her from that fate.

“Listen up,” Dick announced. “Regiment wants a patrol for prisoners.”

Immediately the vibe in the room went from a calm neutral to a thick tension. Alice frowned at Dick, straightening up in her chair. When Nixon joined him, she glanced his way. He met her gaze as well. He sighed.

“This one comes straight from Colonel Sink, so, it’s not my idea.”

The way he tried to cover his own hide made her wonder just how bad this idea was. Alice let her gaze wander from him to Ron to Lipton, and finally back to Dick. None of them looked happy. Her frown only deepened.

Dick turned to Ron. “Since the river’s the main point of resistance, we’re gonna have to cross it to get to them.”

“What do we need to do?” Ron asked.

“There’s a three story building on the enemy side, up the embankment. We know it’s occupied.” Dick glanced over at Alice in apprehension. Then he turned back to Ron. “You can have fifteen men. Think very hard about who you want to lead the patrol. You’ll need a lead scout, a translator.”

Nixon, Dick, and Ron all glanced at Alice. She straightened up. She knew they were probably looking at her because they knew she’d want to go and they wouldn’t let her. Part of her agreed, but the less intelligent, more impulsive side of her brain didn’t care. She was the best damn translator in the whole Regiment, and knew what to look for in terms of intelligence.

“I’ve got the entire Battalion on covering fire,” Dick added.

“When?” Ron asked.

“Tonight, 0100.”

“Yes, sir.” Ron nodded and then looked down.

“Speirs, I want this to be as foolproof and safe as possible.”

Nixon nodded, turning from where he’d been looking between Lip, Alice, and Jones. He eyed Ron carefully. “Yeah, don’t take any chances on this one. We’re too far along for that.”

Ron looked hard at Nixon. But though he usually hated Nixon giving him orders, he seemed to take the severity of the patrol seriously and just nodded. After a moment, he walked over to Dick to discuss options for the patrol. Nixon moved towards Alice. On the way, he stopped in front of Lieutenant Jones.

“Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Jones, sir.”

Realization dawned on Nixon’s face. He grinned and looked him up and down. “Right, our West Pointer.”

“Yes sir.”

“When’d you graduate?”

“June 6th, sir.”

Alice, who had been listening, nearly started coughing as she tried to suppress a laugh. But Nixon just looked at him in shock. “June 6th? Of last year?”

“‘D-Day’, yes sir.” 

To his credit, Jones looked sheepish as he answered. But it didn’t stop Alice or Nixon from down right giggling at his answer. Nixon just shook his head with a grin. “Alright. Don’t get hurt.”

Nixon moved past Jones towards where Alice sat along the wall. He grinned and rolled his eyes, gesturing behind himself towards Jones. With only a smirk and a shrug, Alice shook her head.

“How’re you feeling?” Nix asked her.

She took a deep breath through her nose. When she didn’t break down coughing, Alice smiled. “Better, it seems. Would’ve been ever better without hearing of this patrol.”

His smile fell. “Yeah, we all would.”

They all would. As he stood there, frowning, Alice felt her heart break a bit. Nixon had been drinking more and more since they’d gotten out of Bastogne and he’d managed to restock his whiskey. Not enough to worry her, but enough that it had caught her attention. As he and Dick turned away, walking from the CP to find more information for the patrol, Alice sighed.

“Captain, request permission to go on the patrol.”

At Jones’ request, everyone in the room turned to him. Ron looked about ten seconds away from wanting to punch the young replacements officer. Lipton and the nearby Vest just sighed. But Jones looked undeterred. 

Ron glared at him. “No.”

Alice tried to suppress a grin at how defeated Jones looked. His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes. Turning to Ron, she opened her mouth. But he’d clearly been expecting it.

“I swear to God, if you ask what I think you’re about to ask I will lock you in a goddamn bedroom with Doc Roe to reprimand you,” Ron snapped.

She shut her mouth. If she’d not felt like hell after only three quarters of the day, she’d have fought him on it. But she knew he was right, however much she hated it. Her defense of her reckless behavior in the Ardennes had been the lack of options. Here she had no such excuse. So she shut her mouth and sat in silence, content to listen to Lip and Ron discuss tactics.


	21. Chapter 21

**February 9th, 1945**

_Haguenau, France_

* * *

Alice sat on the edge of a bed in the CP. Setting her mud-caked boots to the side up against the wall, she sighed. Alice rolled her shoulders back in an effort to release some tension. All she really wanted was a nap. Just as she took off her coat and tossed it to the floor, a knock sounded outside.

"Go away!" she muttered back, loud enough to be heard. "I'm asleep!"

"Jesus Christ, Alice," Ron said through the door. "Would you listen to me."

She groaned, letting her head fall back and glaring up at the ceiling. But she moved over to the door and opened it. "What?"

He looked down at her with half a smirk. "I outrank you now, you know."

"So do Dick and Nixon, doesn't mean I listen to them," she pointed out.

"Fine, if you don't want a shower, I'll just tell the men to use all the hot water."

Alice straightened up immediately. Her eyes lit up. "If you're lying-"

"Just get your damn boots on."

She nodded and flashed him a smile. As Ron moved back into the main area of the CP, she sat back on her bed with her boots and laced them up. Her movements were sluggish. After a harsh cough, Alice stood from the bed and closed the door.

Ron fell into step with her as they moved out of the CP. He lit a cigarette. With a long exhale of the smoke, he turned to her. "Sergeant Kiehn's dead. Shot by a sniper a few minutes ago."

Alice rubbed her forehead. "It never ends."

"No," he agreed.

They walked in silence for a while longer. Alice folded her arms over her chest for self protection and for warmth. Haguenau felt warmer than Bastogne, but the snow that had been falling that morning spoke to how cold it still was. She sighed.

"Lipton is letting Malarkey know about the patrol picks," he said. Ron looked at her. "Cigarette?"

Alice shook her head. "You know Gene would kill me if he saw me have one," she muttered. Then she sighed again with a shake of her head. "I feel bad for Malarkey."

"We all do," Ron agreed. "But we also all agreed he's the best choice."

She frowned. "I know. That's the worst part of this. If Don gets hurt, or loses someone else…"

"That's not on you," Ron argued. "I'm their Commanding Officer."

"Do you have any reservations?" She turned and looked at him. They stepped around a corner through the cold. In front of them, men had begun gathering around the showers. She stopped Ron. "About sending him, I mean."

Ron took a deep breath through his nose. He blew the smoke and glanced around. Eventually looked back at her and gestured over to the showers. "Come on. Before they take all the hot water."

She watched him walk a few feet forward before following. With her clean underclothes in hand, Alice hurried to catch him. A few of the men exited the showers pulling on pants over their boxers. She saw Malarkey and a few of the men from Second looking downright depressed. She supposed they'd gotten the news.

"Luz."

Alice turned as Ron called over to him. She saw George walking over, pulling on his undershirt over his head. It stuck to his body from the shower water. With a nod, he walked up.

"Sir?"

Ron gestured to Alice. "Watch the area while she showers." Once George had nodded, he turned back to her. "They set up a screen for you inside the far one. Best we could do."

"Thanks. I'll manage," she assured him.

Ron nodded. He went to walk away but then turned back. "Oh, Luz. I need you on Supply when you've finished up. We've got a couple shipments coming in. It'll be in the CP."

"Right," he said, nodding.

Ron gave them both quick nods before moving back towards the CP. With Ron gone, George groaned audibly and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. He hated standing in for Supply. Everyone always wanted something from him.

"Sorry," Alice said. But she couldn't help but smile.

"Why the hell are you sorry?" he muttered.

They moved over towards the far end of the showers. As Alice shifted her coat off and handed it to him to hold on to, she just shook her head. She looked at him with another smile. "Ron knows I like you. So he trusts you."

"Jesus Christ, then stop liking me," he bemoaned. He shared a glance with her as she undid her boots and placed them on the side. He couldn't help but smirk.

"I'll keep that request in mind." She scoffed. "Here, hold my clothes."

She thrust her change of clothes into his arms. In the past, before the war, she never would've imagined stripping down to her underclothes in the middle of a broken down town surrounded by paratroopers, but the cold weather necessitated not getting her outer gear soaking wet, and the shower was constant. She couldn't turn it off to change inside. With that in mind, she left on her underwear and tank top, but slipped off her bra under her clothes. She stuck it inside her boot. Then Alice slipped inside. She pulled the outer tarp over the door and took off the rest of her last two pieces of clothing.

"You're a good doorman," she said.

George responded in his best interpretation of Humphrey Boggart. "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Rolling her eyes at the Casablanca quote, Alice let the warm water wash over her body. It took a good deal of effort to get the layer of grime from her body. She'd been itchy all over for a couple weeks once she'd been taken out of combat and had time to think of such things. Using the soap and a washcloth, Alice went to town on her skin.

"Your Humphrey Boggart isn't as good as your John Wayne," Alice called through the shower. "You need more practice. Why don't you go annoy Lipton with it."

"I'm shocked, shocked to find that you don't want me around." When she didn't respond right away, he added, "How's my Claude Rains?"

"Worse. Stick to Boggart."

Alice laughed to herself as George just grumbled something she couldn't make out. With her skin clean, she had to work on her hair. It took serious effort. She had to scrub it with soap three times over just to get the dirt out.

Oh how she wished she could stand under the shower head forever, letting the warm water wash over her worn out body. Looking down at herself, her breath caught at scars she'd acquired. Her left arm had scarred over from the bullet in Holland. At the end of long days it still ached from overuse. The scar she'd acquired from her time in the Maquis still contrasted smooth and pink on her left chest. Her legs had a few small white scars from minor scrapes.

Alice sighed as she stuck her face into the stream of water. She didn't want it to end. But it had to. After rinsing her hair one more time, Alice stepped into the corner out of the water as best she could. She stuck her hand out and asked for her towel. Then she took her clean clothes. After jumping around trying to put her underwear and shirt on, Alice pushed out into the cold. She cursed.

George glanced back at her. "You sure do clean up good." He smirked as she tried to slip on her paratrooper pants. He tried his Humphrey Boggart impression again. "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine…" Placing a hand over his heart he pretended to be wounded.

She just rolled her eyes. After pulling her pants all the way up, she put her hands on her hips. Then Alice grabbed her coat from him. "When it comes to women, you're a true democrat."

George started laughing at her use of Casablanca against him. Once she'd managed to get herself fully situated they both moved back to the CP. They both had work to do. George had the supplies to inventory. For her part, Alice needed to rest. She knew the officers and the medics would throw a fit if she wasn't at least hanging around in the CP.

As she walked into the CP with George, he split to go to the side room where he heard Vest. But Alice stopped in her tracks. Spina and Gene were both standing around Lipton who was back laying on the couch. Part of her wondered if she'd be able to sneak past them, just to avoid any sort of inspection. But as fate would have it, Lipton saw her.

"There she is," he said quickly.

Alice didn't miss the small, knowing smile that Lip flashed her as both the medics turned her way. Sneaky bastard had gotten them to look over her instead of him. She would've been mad if she hadn't so impressed at Lipton for pulling such a stunt. The medics must've really been driving him mad.

"Where you been," Spina quizzed her. "We been lookin' for yah."

"Showers," she said.

Gene nodded. Walking over to her, he said, "Cough for me."

She hated that order. But Alice didn't complain and gave him her best cough. Still definitely a chest cough, he frowned, but nodded back. "Right. Ain't that bad. You need more rest though, more time off your feet."

"Whatever the doctors order," she muttered back.

Spina laughed. "Damn right."

"Just try to stay indoors, cherie. In the CP. The less in the cold you are, the faster you'll be back to normal."

"Lip, same for you, then," Alice said, looking past the medics. When he frowned in her direction she just smirked. "I saw you running around outside, Sergeant."

Gene and Spina both turned around. Chuckling under her breath, she left them to argue with the First Sergeant. It didn't take much skill to sneak away back to the bedroom she'd claimed and soon she was laying on her back with her legs off the bed. Too much effort to take off her boots, she just closed her eyes. Half a bed was a hell of a lot nicer than a foxhole.

She lay there for a while, staring up at the damaged ceiling. Paint peeled back in several spots and the small chandelier definitely didn't work anymore. Alice practiced her breathing. But it didn't take all too much time for her to grow restless again. She decided to find George.

It didn't take long to find where in the CP they'd set up for inventory. Skinny had been conscripted into carrying boxes with Vest, so she followed him. She found that George had managed to scrounge together a decent little spot in the very back of the mansion they used for command. Some organization had clearly been done with the various boxes and crates. George himself stood behind a dresser turned table, his clipboard on his right and a dozen packs of gum on the left. He pulled them in sets out of a small crate, counting them, before transferring the Juicy Fruit to a new box.

"Rumor is, if you glare at the supplies long enough, they'll count themselves," Alice joked. She leaned in the doorway. "Got anything good this time?"

"Well, we got Hersheys and Baby Ruths. Vest thinks there may be some Butterfingers in there somewhere, too, but he ain't sure." George looked up at her and then back down at his inventory. "I gotta count, so if you're gonna be in here, don't mess me up."

Alice had to suppress a grin at him. Seeing George get bitter about his work never ceased to amuse her. She had to admit, though, he got through the work remarkably quickly. Setting herself down along the wall on a couch, she sat down and closed her eyes. Gene couldn't get mad at her for that.

It only took a few minutes for the delicate peace of George's work to be interrupted. Johnny wandered in from somewhere, and behind him, Cobb. They eyed George's work like vultures. It took all her self control not to laugh as George got more and more irritated with their presence. He had moved on to counting the Hershey bars, a disastrous development given the company he'd acquired.

"Come on, George. Just gimme, I don't know, 10, 15 bars?" said Johnny. He leaned himself against the end of the dresser where nothing else took up the space.

George sighed. Leaving the chocolate for a moment, he reached over and grabbed two of the Juicy Fruit he'd yet to inventory. "Here. Juicy Fruit. Happy?" George slammed it down in front of him.

At the same moment, Vest brought in yet another crate of supplies. While Johnny begrudgingly pocketed the gum, Vest spoke up. "We just got a report of movement." He turned to George. "First Sergeant Lipton wants you to lay a few bazooka rounds into a house across the river."

Alice couldn't help but wonder if Lip had asked for George knowing he'd be fed up with inventory. She smiled at the thought, but as soon as Cobb started hounding George about the Hershey bars again, she rolled her eyes. Johnny's pestering, though annoying, was somewhat funny. Cobb's tone just screamed punch me in the face.

"C'mon Luz, you're First Platoon at heart!"

"Jesus," George groaned, "Cobb. There's not enough!"

"Woah! Hershey bars!"

Liebgott slid into the room between Johnny and Cobb. Alice stifled a short laugh at how excited the man sounded. But with every new person to enter the room, first Liebgott, then Webster, and finally Lieutenant Jones, George just inched closer and closer to his boiling point. Alice wondered if she'd have to step in.

"Jesus Christ," George growled.

Cobb jumped in. "Wait your turn, Liebgott."

"Yeah, who are they for?" He leaned closer. Eventually he pushed in between Cobb and Johnny, sitting on a stool.

"Not you, Lieb!"

He scoffed. "Oh come on, George, one bar."

George, still with a few Hershey bar between his fingers, raised his voice. He glared at Liebgott, and then at everyone. "No! There's not enough to go around!"

Before anyone else could respond to his outburst, Lieutenant Jones stepped in. He glanced over the shoulders of the enlisted at George. It took a bit of a raised voice to get their attention, but eventually he got George. "Cap'n Speirs here?"

"Down by the river, sir," George said back.

A voice from the other entrance to the room pulled everyone's attention away from the impending Hershey bar coup. "Hey, Big Mouth, give the kid a Hershey bar, huh?"

George grinned like a kid in a candy store at the sight of Frank Perconte standing in the doorway, helmet at his side, smirking like nobody's business. Alice started smiling too and laughed a little as everyone share greetings.

"Yeah, what's up guys? I like whatcha did with the place, George."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I did good, eh? How ya feelin?"

"Long as you keep your hands off my ass, I'll be fine."

Alice snickered. "Frank, that goes for everyone, not just you."

"Ey! Feelin better, Lieutenant?" he grinned.

"Mostly."

George, now in a much better mood, called to him. "Here. Have a Hersheys!"

As Liebgott bemoaned Frank getting Hersheys while he didn't, Johnny Martin moved his way through the crowd of enlisted to Frank. Alice watched in amusement as they teased him over his wounded ass. Before long, though, talk turned to more pressing matters like the night patrol. In a matter of thirty seconds and a single comment from Liebgott, the mood of the whole room darkened.

"Oh, yeah, Jesus, that reminds me, Web." George reached to the area behind himself and grabbed a small crate. "I need you to run these to OP Two for me. Grenade launchers for the Night Patrol." Once Webster had taken it, he grabbed a few more items and tossed them on. "Hey, you know what, send these too."

Vest launched into a story about Dog Company. Gossip always ran rampant in 2nd Battalion. Anything that happened in one company would be heard about by the others in a matter of hours. Alice listened as Vest talked about the new replacement Platoon Leader getting his foot blown off by a mine. She didn't miss Lieutenant Jones' pained expression. Her smile fell. So caught up in her thoughts over Jones, she didn't catch what Cobb said. But evidently George had had enough with him, as had Liebgott which said even more perhaps.

"Hey, hey, Cobb! With the mouth, please." George snapped. "The kid's just tryin' to do his job, alright." He shook his head and muttered under his breath. Finally he snapped. "Jesus Christ. To hell with this. Count 'em up, Vest. I gotta go blast this house."

Vest muttered to himself before turning to the others. "Ya happy now?"

As George strapped on his weapons, he shook his head. "You comin' Perco? Make yourself useful and watch this shit for me." He moved towards the door. "Web! You're coming with me."

As Webster turned to follow, Alice hopped up too. As much as being near a fed up George Luz wasn't anywhere near as enjoyable as a not fed up George Luz, it certainly beat trying to help control the desperate paratroopers. Even as Perco called after her begging for help, she just ducked out to follow George, Webster, Vest, and Jones.

When they reached OP Two, Webster, Vest, and Jones veered right. She managed to fall into step with George and just sighed. Then he glanced at her. It made her laughed that through all the arguing and stress, his cigarette still dangled from his mouth.

"Oh," he said. He rustled through his pocket. "Happy birthday."

Alice looked at him in confusion. But when he whipped out a Hershey bar, she just grinned. She didn't wait to enjoy it. Splitting off a piece, she passed it to George when they went to grab the bazooka. "Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


	22. Chapter 22

After seeing George off to take out the building across the river, Alice wound her way back through the streets of Haguenau. Her head had started hurting, a stabbing pain behind her left eye. She groaned to herself. It didn’t take her long to spot Lieutenant Jones and Vest still looking for the officers. She trailed behind. Even if they wouldn’t let her go on the patrol, she wanted to stay updated on its planning and status.

A red house, littered with holes and torn siding, sat right near the river. Sandbags had been piled up five feet beyond it to create a wall of sorts, and from there, Alice saw what looked to be Ron and Dick. They chatted while staring out across at the German lines. Lieutenant Jones interrupted them. By the time Alice got within earshot, Vest had joined them and asked to go on the patrol.

Dick nodded. “Absolutely.”

Alice stood to the side behind Jones and Vest. Dick look at Jones, then made eye contact with her. After a brief moment of hesitation, he leaned in towards Ron. “He’s got a point about Sergeant Malarkey.”

Ron nodded, gritting his teeth as he looked Jones over again. “Yeah,” he told Dick, “a point.”

Several beats passed where Dick just looked Jones up and down. Even from behind, Alice could see Jones deflating under the close inspection. She decided she liked the kid, even if he was much too green and knew nothing about the horrible conditions he had walked into.

“Fine, you can go.” Dick agreed. “There’ll be a briefing, CP, 1700.”

“Yes, sir.”

Just like that, Jones and Vest turned away. She nodded to both of them as they passed. Once they moved away from the officers, Alice pushed herself off the wall and moved to them. The view over the river was beautiful in an oddly melancholic way. The crumbling houses and dusky sky used a palette of yellows, golds, greys, and browns. The setting sunlight reflected in the river, creating a peaceful stillness of sky above and below the buildings.

“You’re not going,” Dick said to her.

Ron turned around. When he caught sight of her without a helmet he just shook his head. “She better know that already or she’s stupider than I thought.”

“Watch your mouth,” Alice snapped back. With her arms across her chest, she moved to stand on Dick’s other side. “I’m not in the mood.”

Dick watched her for a moment. With a rise of his eyebrows, Ron looked her over and then turned back to the river. Neither of them had expected her to snap. Not that they’d never been on the receiving end of her short temper, but usually it had more of a warning than that.

After a few moments of silence, Ron turned to Dick. “If Malarkey’s not gonna lead it, who did you have in mind?”

“Martin or Grant, Talbert maybe,” Dick said. He sighed and shook his head. “They all need a break.”

“Give it to Johnny,” Alice said.

Dick and Ron turned to her. For a moment, Alice regretted what she’d said. She knew she was right. Johnny had himself the most under control. His ability to compartmentalize his emotions would be useful, until it hurt him at least.

“That was a quick suggestion,” said Dick.

Ron nodded. “Why Martin?”

“The choice isn’t going to come down to skill,” she pointed out. “They’re all good enough, and they all have enough experience. But Johnny is by far the most effective at keeping himself calm and under control right now. Grant’s been snippy and far more sarcastic even than usual, and Tab’s been almost as tired as Malark. I wouldn’t say Johnny’s the least affected by Bastogne, but he’s the best at controlling what that month did to him. He’s just angry, and he’s using that to his advantage.”

They didn’t respond. Dick took a moment to look back over the river. But it only took Ron a few moments of watching her before he nodded. “Right. Sergeant Martin it is, then.”

Dick nodded. He glanced down at his watch. 1630 hours. “Speirs, I’ll do the briefing. I want you to go get the rest of Easy prepped on what we expect for covering fire.”

“Right.”

They both moved off. But Alice just stood there, frowning, looking out over the river. A pit formed in her stomach as she eyed the buildings across from them. Somewhere in there, German soldiers waited for them to make a move. Though she wasn’t their CO, Alice couldn’t help but think that if Johnny got killed or wounded on this mission, Easy would only have her to blame.

As the sun sank further in the sky and darkness began to consume the town, Alice moved away from the outpost. She figured they’d finished up their briefing. So at 1720 hours, she made for OP Two. Along the way, a few stray mortars slowed her down. But at last she reached the outpost.

She found them in the basement. Malarkey wandered about handing out food while the men going on patrol that night fixed up their gear for the stealth op. Her feet stopped a few steps from the bottom as she watched them with a frown. They looked so worn out.

“Smells good, Malark,” Alice piped up. She took the last few stairs down. “Better than I heard you managed on D-Day. Didn’t you drive Lieb off with that one?”

Malarkey failed to stifle a short laugh. The whole room turned to her, but most didn’t react more than quick waves or nods in greeting. She walked through the room over to where she saw Johnny standing. He waited for her.

“Where’s Lieb?” Alice asked.

Martin snorted. After taking a sip of coffee he gestured to Webster. “Webster pointed out that we didn’t need two translators.”

“Wish I was going.” Alice sighed and shook her head. Her heart went out to the men gathered.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Last thing we need is for your cough to wake the Germans, though.”

She agreed. “I know.”

They fell silent again. Alice watched Shifty wrapping his gun with black tape. Across from him, Ramirez and Babe smoked side by side. Skinny chewed at his food near the door. Her heart constricted. A few moments later, as he finished talking to Lieutenant Jones, Malarkey walked over with a cup of coffee in his hands. He handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said. Alice put it to her lips. It pleasantly surprised her, as it was both hot and not half water. “Not bad.”

He nodded. Shuffling where he stood, he turned from the men gathered to Johnny and Alice. “Wish I could I say that I wish I was goin’ in your place, Johnny.”

Johnny just snorted. “Yeah, then I’d know you really were an idiot.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “Still, it’s my job. So don’t get yourself killed, or I’ll yell at you when you get back.”

Alice frowned at him. She chewed at her lip. Johnny looked more irritated than tired, but she could still see the exhaustion in his face. And Malarkey, he seemed even worse.

“It’s not your fault, Malark,” she argued. When he went to object, she shook her head. She let out a deep breath. “I suggested the switch.”

Both of them stared at her in surprise. Malarkey’s coffee cup hovered half way to his mouth. She frowned and looked between them. Johnny didn’t look angry, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but Johnny you’re the best choice for this.” She frowned and glanced from him back to Malarkey. “Dick was already planning on pulling you off, Don. I just helped decide who to put in your place. You need a break.” She half expected him to argue. The fact that he didn’t worried her even more. Alice turned back to Johnny. “They need you on this one. You can yell at me for this all you want once you come back successfully.”

With a slight grimace, Johnny nodded. He looked to the floor and then to the other men in the room. They diligently prepared for the mission. “How’s the intelligence on this patrol?” he asked, turning back to her.

Alice sighed. “Honestly? I have no idea. The docs have had me on lockdown in the CP every minute possible. I will tell you, this wasn’t Nixon’s idea. So don’t yell at him for it.”

“Nixon’s too smart to put this through,” Malarkey agreed. “Never thought it was him.”

Johnny agreed. “His plans are usually pretty spot on. He’s not reckless.”

“Yeah,” said Alice. Then she hissed as another shot of throbbing pain pierced through her head. “Damn it.”

“Your breathing?” Malarkey asked.

She shook her head. “No, I have a headache. Can’t catch a break,” she muttered with a small smile. “It’ll go away.”

“How’s Lip doing?” asked Johnny. “Last I saw him he was up and around outside.”

She scoffed. After another sip of coffee, she shook her head. “He needs to be in bed. But he isn’t, of course. Gene and Spina were tearing into him earlier about that.”

“You’re one to talk,” Johnny pointed out.

Alice sighed. She shook her head. “Listen, I didn’t have other options. Believe it or not, I didn’t like being sick in the middle of the Ardennes. By the end of it I was about ready to quit.” She frowned. Looking down, she added, “Lieb caught me throwing a fucking temper tantrum at one point, so, that’s how that went.”

“The docs were pretty tight lipped about how bad it really was,” Johnny admitted.

At the obvious question, she frowned. Alice glanced between them. Both Malarkey and Johnny waited for an answer. So she took a deep breath. “It was pretty dangerous by the end,” she admitted. “The fever got pretty high and I started coughing up a lot of blood. Gene thinks if it’d gone another week or so without any sort of change, I could’ve died.”

“Jesus,” Malarkey muttered. “And now Lip’s got it?”

“Yeah, but he’s got the benefit of being indoors and having penicillin already. He should be okay,” she assured them.

They all nodded to each other. Alice and Malarkey sipped at their coffees while Johnny ate his dinner. It was a comfortable silence. But as time went on, the men went off to rest and Alice left the two sergeants to do the same. She picked her way from OP Two back towards the CP in the darkness. Malarkey had passed her a k ration on her way out, a can of some sort of mystery meat. She grimaced at it while she wandered down the road.

A sharp meow stopped her in her tracks. Alice frowned and looked around. The sharp meow came again, high pitched. Alice moved towards it. It sounded young. As she got closer, the meowing escalated. Alice overturned a few stones from a debris pile and gasped.

A kitten, maybe about eight weeks old, scrambled among the fallen bricks. It had white and brown tabby fur, covered in soot. It shook where it stretched. Alice rushed to take off her scarf and scoop it up.

The kitten wriggled in her arms as she wrapped it up. Alice felt unbidden tears creeping up. As she cradled it to her chest, the kitten gradually calmed. It began to purr in her arms. With the kitten to her chest, Alice hurried on to the CP.

When her boots hit the hardwood floors, she looked around. The electricity didn’t work in the broken mansion, but someone had managed to scrounge up a dozen gas lamps and placed them throughout. Alice could hear voices from the main room.

Placing the wriggling cat down on the floor, Alice watched in amusement as it began to sniff the place. She opened the can of meat and showed it to her. It meowed in excitement and Alice placed the can down on the floor. She sat next to it.

The kitten took no time before sticking her face in the food. As Alice watched her in silence, she didn’t notice Nixon standing at the end of the hallway. He shook his head.

“I thought I heard a cat.” Nixon pushed off from the wall and walked over, taking a drink of his flask. He looked at the kitten. “Where’d you find it?”

“She was stuck under some debris,” Alice explained. She accepted Nixon’s hand up off the ground. With a smile, she turned from the kitten to him. “I figured she might enjoy some time indoors.”

Alice spent a few moments more watching the cat gobble down the food. With a gentle smile, she left her to devour the meal and followed Nixon further into the CP. In the middle room, someone had pulled a table and some chairs in to sit alongside the couch. Ron and Dick both sat at the table, the latter looking over some documents and the former shuffling cards with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“I wasn’t crazy,” Nixon announced. “It was a cat.”

“You found a cat?” Dick asked her in surprise.

She nodded. “Yeah, it was outside in the cold. I brought it in.” Taking a seat at the table, Alice rubbed her face and yawned. Her watch read 1830 hours, but it felt much later. She let her eyes close for just a minute. But when she felt someone poke her, she reopened them and turned left.

“Come on, you’re still sick,” Nixon insisted. “Go use one of the beds. It’s more comfortable than a table.”

Alice frowned. But Dick and Ron watched her as well. She couldn’t quite figure out if they were amused or disappointed, but frankly she didn’t care anymore. So she took a deep breath and nodded. “Fine.”

Nixon sent her a sympathetic look as she stood from the table. Leaving them to wait for the patrol to kick off, she moved into the bedrooms in the back. She guessed Lipton had already been sent to bed as well. Even Alice couldn’t help but smile when she walked into her bedroom and looked at the real mattress she’d gotten to sleep on. It only took a few minutes once her head hit the pillow for Alice to pass out.

When she woke up, it was to shouts and the roar of machine gun fire. It took her a few moments to orient herself, to remember where she was. At first her thought was Bastogne, but as her hands gripped a blanket, she realized she was in a bedroom. Then she remembered Haguenau, and then the patrol. The patrol.

Alice scrambled out of bed, almost slipping to the ground. She forced her boots onto her feet and grabbed her coat on her way out the door. Dashing past the empty food can in the hallway, Alice fled out into the night towards OP Two. When she reached the entrance level, a shell-shocked Private Vest was being guided out by Gene. The look of agony Gene shot her made her stomach sink. Alice lost no time heading in and down the stairs.

When she reached the bottom, she scanned the faces in the room. Her eyes landed on Johnny first. He met her gaze. It took a moment before they each looked away. She scanned the others. Grant, Shifty, Skinny, Babe, Alley, Ramirez, Popeye, the list went on. Everyone but Jackson. And based on the agony written across everyone in the room, something horrible had happened.

She looked past the main group. In the back she caught sight of the grey uniforms of the Germans. Alice stepped down the last step into the room. She moved past Webster, past Cobb who looked to have downed almost two thirds of a schnapps bottle, and met Johnny back by the prisoners.

“Jackson?” she asked, voice low.

“Dead,” he said.

Alice closed her eyes. What a pointless thing to die for: a couple of German privates who probably knew less about the overall operations than the Americans’ own intelligence officers. Turning from Johnny towards the silently seated prisoners, she felt herself conflicted. Fury and pity twisted her stomach in knots

“Wie heißen Sie?” Alice demanded.

At her German, they startled. They both looked at her with wide eyes, clearly surprised to see a woman, a German woman no less, in a paratrooper uniform. When neither responded with their names, she turned to the one on the left, a dark haired, dark eyed man who was probably about her own age.

She put her hands on her hips. “Wo kommen Sie her?”

“Wir kommen aus München,” he said, gesturing to himself and the other. Then he paused. “Wirst du uns erschießen?”

Alice paused. Both the men looked at her side arm. After a brief moment of hesitation, she took her pistol out and set it on the table behind herself. “Nein.” She looked at them closer. “Nein, ich werde dich nicht erschießen. Aber ich schlage vor, wir arbeiten zusammen.”

“Keep talking to your Nazi friends.”

Alice turned around in surprise at Cobb’s words. The whole room went dead silent. Roy Cobb held a half empty schnapps bottle at his side and a blanket around his arms. The glare he sent her and then the German prisoners was half empty too from his drunken state.

Johnny looked at him, livid. “What did you say?”

“You heard what I said,” he muttered. “We should just shoot ‘em.”

“Cobb, shut the fuck up,” Johnny snapped.

Alice watched Cobb. The others watched her. She hadn’t said anything yet in response to his accusation. To be frank, Alice didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t been accused of being a Nazi to her face since Toccoa. Sure, whispers had floated behind her back, but Cobb’s words stung. “I suggest you retract your previous statement, Private,” she said. “Shooting the prisoners would mean another patrol.”

“Don’ call me private like you’re givin’ the orders,” he snapped.

Johnny stepped forward. “Except she is. And either you’re so drunk you can’t remember she’s an officer, or too fuckin’ stupid to censor your thoughts. I don’t know which is worse.”

“Beware Female Spies,” he added. “Bet they knew we were comin’ cause of you.”

Alice took a step towards him, furious. Her fists clenched and she felt her shoulders tense. But as she walked up to him, he just looked down his nose the three or four inches he had on her. He sneered.

“I suggest you remove yourself from this room, Cobb, before I or one of these men does it for you.” Alice seethed. She put her hand on his arm to guide him towards the door.

When the schnapps bottle hit her face, she gasped. Alice stumbled back with a shout as the glass and spirits hit her temple. All around her she heard scrambling as a few men went to the prisoners, a couple pulled her back, and most of them jumped Cobb. Alice could feel blood dripping down her left face. Both her eyes still worked, though.

“Scheisse!” Alice hissed in pain as her hand instinctively went to the side where the bottle had shattered. Wet, sticky blood coated her finger tips. “Goddamnit!”

“Someone find a medic,” Johnny snapped. He grabbed her by the arm and pushed her towards the stairs. “Alley! Keep Cobb under control and watch the goddamn prisoners. Webster, McClung, Popeye, Ramirez, with him.”

By the time they got her up the stairs, someone had managed to track down a first aid kit. Alice used the bandage inside to keep pressure on the main cut near her temple. She sat at the table, eyes closed. The alcohol burned the cuts, but she supposed that at least meant they were probably sterile. Some of the schnapps had gotten down her shirt. Alice wanted nothing more than to shoot Cobb.

Spina burst in alongside Skinny. He looked in surprise from Alice to the others but didn’t wait for an explanation. It took only a few moments before he was at her side, peeling away the pressure bandage. “Damn, Alice, you got cut up real good,” he muttered. “What the hell happened?”

“A drunk Cobb,” snapped Babe. He stood near them, leaning against the bunk, watching in concern. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

“Get in line,” Johnny sneered. “How’s it look, Doc?”

“Ain’t that bad,” Spina assured her, and them. “Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s mostly superficial. Probably hurt like hell, though, and you’re gonna need a handful of stitches for the deeper ones.”

“Just get it over with,” she said. “I need to change. I’ve got alcohol all over my clothes now.”

Spina sent her a conciliatory smile. Before long he’d set to work on the stitches. Alice gritted her teeth and clenched the table in pain, but at last she’d gotten the larger cuts across her temple and cheek shut.

“I just fuckin’ showered, too.” Alice bit her cheek and clenched her fists again. As Spina started cleaning her face with a wet bandage, she just shook her head. “I should’ve shot him.”

As it turned out, when Alice eventually brought the court-martial report to Colonel Sink, he’d said much the same. Alice would never forget his angry words: _“You could have saved us all a lot of trouble. You should have shot him."_ Frankly, Alice couldn’t have agreed more.

But with her face cleaned and cuts sewn shut, Alice left OP Two. Her heart still beat way too fast, adrenaline up. When she walked with Spina into the CP, she thanked God that none of the other officers were there. All she wanted was to change out of her schnapps-covered clothes and crawl into bed. With Spina’s assurance that he’d let the officers know what happened, she did just that.


	23. Chapter 23

Alice sat at the end of her bed, eyes closed, head in her hands and elbows on her knees. Despite the painkillers from Spina, she’d been in pain for hours. Then she’d gotten some morphine. Now that had worn off, too. The last thing Alice wanted to deal with that day was a court-martial order. It had to be done, though. Cobb had gone too far with his slurs and threats, let alone his actions. Being drunk didn’t excuse him from attacking her.

But after she’d pulled on everything, the thought of lacing up her jump boots just felt like too much work. She wanted to sleep. She wanted it to be over. She wanted the war to be over. Alice sat quietly, enjoying the deep breaths she could take for the first time in over a month. All she needed was some time.

A small knock on her door pulled Alice out of her self-pitying musings. For a moment, she debated ignoring it. Maybe whoever it was would go away. But when the knock came again, she sighed.

“Yeah I’m up,” she called.

The door opened. Gene came in, shutting it behind himself when he saw her sitting at the edge of her bed. He looked her over. After half a minute, he moved over to her and angled her head so he could see the damage from the glass bottle. “Cobb did that?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t fight the gentle way he examined the wound. Occasionally she flinched back at his pressure on the reddened skin. “It hurts,” she admitted.

Gene nodded. With a small hum, he finally met her gaze. “Yeah, I’ll bet. He did a number on ya’. You gonna press charges?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Narrowing his eyes, he pushed some of her hair near her eye and temple back. He shook his head. “Another inch to the right and he’d have gotten your eye, Cherie. Got lucky there.”

All she could say was another half-hearted “yeah”. Before long Gene had dug out some painkillers for her and she downed them with water from her canteen. He went on to explain that the half dozen smaller cuts would heal in no time, but the one across her cheek bone and the one over her brow would take longer. But, he assured her the already minor swelling would be gone in a day or two.

“Cobb’ll be lucky if Speirs don’t shoot him,” Gene muttered.

But Alice just scoffed. While she pulled on her boots, she shook her head and countered, “Well Cobb’ll be lucky if I don’t shoot him.”

“Guess that’s true,” he agreed with a small smile. “Come on. The officers’ll wanna see you.”

With a tiny groan, she nodded. They were part of the reason she hid in her room. She could already predict their reactions. Not that it didn’t flatter her, their inevitable desire to kill Cobb, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with Ron and Nixon getting pissed off when she herself already felt the same way.

She allowed Gene to haul her off her bed. Her watch read 1530 hours. Alice realized she’d slept all day. With a silent sigh, she grabbed the door handle and opened it. The hallway from her bedroom led straight into the main area and it surprised her to find it mostly empty except for Lipton and George. The former sat on the couch again, looking better. He drank what she assumed was coffee while George sat opposite him on a chair looking over a clipboard, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Lipton looked over at her first. But at his long glance, George followed his gaze. He took out his cigarette and shook his head. “Jesus Christ. Cobb did that?”

“Last night,” she affirmed. “He was drunk.”

After a sigh, Lipton shook his head. “He better have been. Not that it makes it any better.”

“I mean Cobb ain’t the nicest but never thought he’d attack you,” George added.

“Doc, how bad is it?” asked Lipton.

Gene shrugged. He put his hands in his pockets before turning to her. Then he looked back at the other two. “Spina stitched up the two big ones. Long as they don’t get infected, it’ll be fine. The other ones are minor.”

“Where are the officers?” Alice finally asked.

“Winters and Nixon are down by the River,” George said. “I heard Sink wants another patrol.”

She sighed and then turned away. As if one hadn’t been enough. “Thanks.”

This time, she made sure to grab her helmet before heading down to the river. Selfishly it helped hide the lacerations as much as it protected her from bullets. With the helmet on, she hurried out the door. The very beginning of dusk had started falling around them. The gold sky reminded her painfully of the day before.

She passed a dozen men mulling about, replacing men at outposts and scrounging food for their platoons. Half were from Dog, nodding to her on their way past. More than a few curious glances were cast her way as they caught sight of her cuts.

Her boots crunched on the broken cobbles and fine debris that littered the ground. With every step, she tried to clear her head. Focus on the mission, on the minute ahead. Forget about the pain. With those thoughts in mind, she hurried down to the river.

Against the twilight sky, Dick and Nixon stood with their backs to her. Neither spoke. When she got closer, Alice slowed down. For some reason the overwhelming desire to just watch them crashed over her. Maybe for fear of losing them, maybe for fear of what interrupting them would lead to. So she stood within earshot, content to watch them talk.

“So, he knows we lost a man?” Dick asked.

Nixon gave a tiny nod. “Yeah, he knows. He also knows you picked up two prisoners who talked.”

“About what?”

“O.B., supply trouble, Hitler’s favorite color. I don’t know,” Nixon muttered. “None of it helps us get across the river.”

Dick scoffed. He turned to look at Nixon. “What’s the point?”

A few moments of silence followed. Nixon took a couple steps forward to get more level with Dick. He sighed. “Honestly? Sink’s been on the phone all day, braggin’ it up. I think he’s just showin’ off now. I don’t know Dick. I don’t know what to tell you. You gave him a successful patrol, now he wants two.”

“Successful,” Dick said. He shook his head. “Cost us a man, a kid. Got one of the men so upset and so drunk he smashed a bottle of schnapps against Alice. For what? Two prisoners who knew less than nothing?”

Nixon snorted. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s about right.” They fell back into silence. After a minute where they both just watched the still waters on the river, Nixon turned to him again. “Did you read the reports?”

“The ones from Grant and Martin?” Dick nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“Did you read Spina’s?”

Dick took another deep breath. “Yeah.”

Nixon gave a small huff under his breath. He shook his head. “Cobb’s lucky she didn’t shoot him.”

With a small, bemused laugh, Dick just nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

As Alice stood there, arms across her chest, she tried to work up the energy to go join them. She felt only a bit bad for eavesdropping. But watching them really did make her feel better. Just as she thought to finally join them, she felt someone join her instead.

“Feelin’ alright?” Ron asked, keeping his voice low. He didn’t look at her, just stood beside her and watched Nixon and Dick as well. “Spina gave us the report this morning.”

Alice released a sigh. She turned to him after a moment. It took less than a second for him to turn to her and start taking in the damage done to her face. But his expression didn’t change. Alice nodded.

“Gene gave me more pain medicine,” she told him. “So it’s starting to feel better.”

“Good. Cobb’s with the MPs. Winters passed the reports up to Sink. He’s just waitin’ on yours,” Ron told her. “Then they’ll court-martial that piece of shit.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. After a few more moments of quiet, she turned to him. “I heard there’s another patrol?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s in for Jackson?”

“Liebgott.”

“Right.”

Silence again. After watching her for another moment, Ron strode forward to join the other captains. She followed. Neither of them turned around at their approach.

“The men are mustered, if you want me to brief ‘em, I’m gonna.” Ron shook his head. Clearly he didn’t like the second patrol idea any more than the other two. At his words, Nixon and Dick finally turned. A brief pause followed before he continued. “It’s uh, same roster as last night. Well, mostly.”

At his words, all three of them glanced briefly at Alice. She’d slid in on Ron’s other side, frowning. But before either Dick or Nixon could say anything, more footsteps were heard behind them. The voice of Colonel Sink interrupted them.

“Evening, gents.” He turned to Alice. “I saw the reports from your sergeants and your medic. Can’t wait to court-martial that sonofabitch. Type up your report when you can, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured.

He stood in silence as they all watched the river. Alice couldn’t help but think how stupid they were, five officers including a Colonel, standing potentially within sniper range of the Germans. It reminded her of Harry lighting the fire in Bastogne. But she didn’t move to cover. Clearly none of them cared enough to do so.

“Y'all did a damn fine job on a tough mission last night. And I wish you good luck tonight, ‘cause I’ll be expectin’ more ‘a the same.” He turned to Dick. “Have you briefed the men?”

Nixon replied after seeing Dick’s silent, boiling irritation. “Just on our way, sir.”

“Alright.” He nodded. “Make damn sure you remind ‘em how proud I am of what they did.”

“Yes, sir!” Nixon jumped in again.

He spared a glance between Dick, Alice, and Ron. All of them could see Dick’s silent rage. Alice had no doubt in her mind that Sink genuinely meant what he said, but the man didn’t spend time watching the enlisted men die one by one. He just didn't understand. As Sink walked away, Dick squirmed in frustration. His mind worked overtime, based on the sheer amount of fidgeting.

“So, I’ll brief ‘em now, sir?” Ron said.

Finally, after another few moments of intense silence, Dick responded. He sounded tired. “No. No, I’ll do it.”

Without wasting any time, Dick turned from the river. The others followed hot on his tail towards OP Two. Alice made the conscious decision to hang back, to watch. Once they entered, she was surprised to find the men all at attention.

Her eyes immediately found Johnny. He seemed more tired than she’d ever seen, and she’d seen him at their worst. After a brief nod her way he turned his full attention on Dick. With a smiliar nod, Dick had them all stand at ease.

She could feel the enlisted and Lieutenant Jones glancing at her, trying to see the full effect of what Cobb had done the night before. Alice had to suppress the urge to squirm and hide. But soon Dick started talking, and all attention turned to him.

“You men did an excellent job last night. I’m uh, I’m proud,” he started. The sincerity in his voice steadily dropped, though, as he continued. “I’m proud. I just saw Colonel Sink, he’s proud too. In fact he’s so proud, he wants you to do another patrol across the river tonight.”

Alice tuned him out. He droned on about the previous patrol, how well they’d one. But the men around the table just sunk in on themselves in defeat. Cigarettes were lit and exchanged. It seemed almost like an early funeral, how depressed the room looked. As Dick began to point locations out on a map Ron passed him, she tried to pay attention again.

“We recovered all the boats, so we’ll be setting off from the same place we did last night.”

Johnny cocked his head to the side. His voice was incredulous, but not accusatory as he asked, “We’re not changing the plan any, sir?”

Dick sighed. He paused. After a brief glance around the table, he turned to Johnny. “No, plan is the same.” After a sigh, he nodded and corrected, “It’ll be 0200 hours instead of 0100.”

The men didn’t meet his gaze. Even Ron’s focus was on the table, his jaw clenched in what Alice guessed to be a mix of anger and exhaustion. She frowned and looked at the map near Dick.

“Is that clear?” Dick asked. A chorus of half-hearted “yes sirs” echoed around the table. Dick nodded again. He stared at the map. “Good. Because, uh, I want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight. That means in the morning, you will report to me that you made it across the river, into German lines, but were unable to secure any live prisoners.”

It took Alice and all the men his entire speech to understand his meaning. When she finally comprehended his words, that they’d be falsifying a mission, all she wanted to do was cry. Instead, she just smiled at Nixon who leaned against an arched wall to her right. He looked as shocked as the others, but when he turned to her, he started snickering silently.

“Understand?” Dick asked. They agreed. With a quick movement, he folded up the map. He let his gaze wander to every man present before nodding. “Good. Look sharp for tomorrow. We’re moving off the line again.”

Stunned silence met his words. But as Dick moved over to the officers and up the stairs, a mix of shocked and excited exclamations permeated the haze they’d been standing in. Smiling like an idiot, she glanced from Nixon, to Ron, to Dick. But she let them pass. Finally she caught Johnny’s attention. He nodded to her once. She nodded back.

When she finally moved out into the town, she didn’t see anyone. Alice guessed they’d have gone to the CP, so she made off that way. It took all her effort not to keep grinning like an idiot. Moving off the line at last. She just hoped when they woke up, it would still be true.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

Alice froze. She turned right. Standing by a supply truck was Harry Welsh. No matter how much she wanted to, Alice couldn’t stop the smile then. George stood next to Harry, and he broke out into laughter as she moved over to them.

“Where the fuck you been,” Alice heckled. As she reached them, she wasted no time pulling him into a hug. “Goddamnit, Harry. No more fires.”

“Deal,” he joked.

George snickered as he continued to unload boxes from the truck. At the noise, Harry turned on him. “What are you laughin’ at, Luz?”

“Nothin’ sir,” he half-protested. “Absolutely nothin’.”

“Damn right.” He grinned. Harry turned back to Alice. It only took about two seconds for his smile to fall. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her face. “Jesus, what happened to you?”

“Roy fuckin’ Cobb,” George said, speaking around his cigarette. He passed a box to the private helping him.

Harry turned from George in confusion and then right back to her. Alice sighed, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t deny it. But as the moments passed and Harry awaited an explanation, Alice shrugged.

“Cobb got drunk. Jackson got killed on the patrol last night, made him snap. When I started talking to the prisoners, he got all convinced I was a Nazi,” she said. “When I confronted him about it, he hit me with a bottle of schnapps.”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t have any other response. When George finished up with the last box and headed inside moments later, they went to follow. Alice took a cigarette that Harry offered. Gene could yell at her if he wanted.

“Enjoy your vacation?” she teased him.

He snorted and shook his head. “It was beautiful. The warm sand, crashing waves. You’d have liked the seagulls.”

With a light laugh, they took the couple steps up to the main entrance of the CP. At the end of the hall they saw Nixon, Dick, Ron, Jones, and Lipton mulling about. When Alice walked in with Harry, the first two broke into smiles.

“Would you two get in here,” Nixon heckled. “We’ve got a promotion to perform!”

Neither Harry nor Alice did more than laugh. But they did join the officers in the side room. In the hallway, George stood behind a low piece of furniture watching, arms across his chest. She nodded to him. Harry followed her gaze and smirked.

Dick smiled and took a sheet of paper from his pocket. He stood straight. “First Sergeant Lipton. Your honorable discharge as an enlisted man, and battlefield commission as a Second Lieutenant.”

As Lip nodded, smiling, Alice just shot Luz another quick glance. The man had completely abandoned his supply job. He watched Lipton with so much pride that Alice thought he would burst.

“Congratulations, Carwood,” Dick said.

Immediately, they all broke into grins as Lip started shaking hands. Nixon was next, then Ron. Finally he turned to Harry. “Welcome back, sir,” said Lip.

Harry laughed, “Hey that’s Harry to you. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

Alice chuckled and patted Harry on the shoulder. “Getting sentimental these days, Harry.” As they all started laughing she shook Lip’s hand and nodded. “Now, you can call me Alice around these guys and Easy won’t kick your ass for it.”

Behind them, George let out a sharp laugh. When everyone turned his way, he tried to cover his mouth to hide his grin but failed, miserably. Alice shook her head with a smile.

“Are you eavesdropping, Luz?” Dick called.

“Me? Never sir,” he said, not even bothering to sound sincere.

Dick shook his head with a laugh. “Get back to work.”

With another laugh, George nodded. He did as he was told, though, as Skinny and Vest both continued to hound him with questions about the inventory. The officers began to peel off into smaller groups, and Alice moved over to Nixon. As Lip traded a silent nod with George, Dick moved off with Jones.

“Hey, Harry, I didn’t expect to see you this soon,” he teased. “I figured you’d be nursing that scratch for another month or two.”

“Did you miss me, Lewis?” replied Harry.

When Alice and Harry both joined Nixon over in the corner, the man in question pulled out his flask. He downed a drink before passing it to Harry. “Here. Probably could use some good stuff.”

“Always knew you’d come in handy.”

Once he’d finished taking a long drink, he handed it to Alice. She grinned. “Thanks, buddy.” After her own drink, she let Nixon take it back. “Glad you're back, Harry.”

And she was. What had started out as a terrible day complete with physical pain and mental anguish had somehow managed to turn into a good one. Between Dick sticking up for the men and Harry’s return, she wasn’t sure what pleased her more. With the unavoidable poker match on the horizon that Harry’s return signaled, she hoped to have a quiet evening and then a quiet sleep. Because in the morning, in the morning they’d finally be getting off the line.


	24. Chapter 24

**March 4, 1945**

_Camp de Châlons, Mourmelon-le-Grand, France_

* * *

Upon their triumphant and yet subdued return to Mourmelon, the Second Battalion and the rest of the 101st Airborne Division slept for almost a week. New ODs and dress uniforms were issued. The men got laundry done and made themselves more presentable. They shaved and cleaned themselves up, and then they just slept. And when they weren’t sleeping, they were eating.

Alice spent her time doing exactly the same. She didn’t see anyone other than at mealtimes for days. Half her time she spent taking warm baths and showers and half her time she slept or read books. Alice stayed in her room as much as possible. For the first time in nearly three months, she had a heated bedroom with its own bathroom. For the first time in nearly three months, she could truly rest.

Forty-eight hour passes were given to the men by Battalion. The 506th’s First Battalion got theirs four days after their return to Mourmelon-le-Grand, and now the Second Battalion had theirs starting Saturday the fourth. Alice had only small plans. She wanted to go into Reims, grab a few drinks, take it easy.

She caught a truck after lunch. A handful of other men, none from Easy, joined her. She talked with two of the sergeants from Ron’s old platoon, John Anderson and Alex Scott. They were good men, smart men. By the end they were all laughing.

It only took half an hour to get to Reims. The city, in the process of being restored from endless bombings it had endured, somehow still looked welcoming. As the truck came to a stop and the back was lowered, Alice followed Anderson and Scott down.

“You’re here by yourself, Lieutenant?” Scott asked.

She smiled. “For now, yeah.” Landing on the ground, she steadied herself. Her dress uniform didn’t make movement too easy, but at least the new Ike jacket helped with that some. 

Anderson nodded. “Well, stay safe. We’re just gonna hit the town, so if anyone causes any trouble let us know.”

“Thanks, boys,” Alice said, chuckling. “I really do appreciate it.”

They strolled side by side with her into the city limits. Laughter and music could be heard from the streets. Anderson just laughed though, and shook his head.

“Captain Speirs would probably send someone after us if we didn’t at least offer,” he pointed out.

“You’re not wrong,” she agreed, grinning. “I understand Dog called him Sparky?”

Scott choked back a laugh. He exchanged a quick glance with Anderson. But when she laughed at the looks on their faces, he just nodded. “Among other things, yeah, but never to his face.”

“That’d be a death wish,” Alice agreed.

Anderson laughed as he chewed some gum. He nodded. “We owe him, though. Got us through a helluva lot. Damn good officer.”

“Good ol’ Killer,” Scott added with a poorly suppressed snicker. “Crazy sonofabitch, but a damn good officer.”

“Alright, well you two have fun,” Alice said, grinning from ear to ear.

They told her the same and split to head towards the bars in the city. Alice had other plans. Wandering around the city, she relished the wonderfully pleasant March weather. Chilly but not freezing, the lack of snow and ice and rain had her smiling. With her Ike jacket, she was plenty warm. As she wandered through the town, Alice found a place to get her hair cut.

That became stop one. Having her hair back to shoulder length made everything better. With that done, Alice moved on to the shopping district. It took about an hour before she picked out a dress to send back to Millie, and a scarf for Madeleine. Adding a small toy for Percy didn’t take long after that and before she knew it, Alice was heading to a bar for a couple drinks after a quick dinner.

The main bar for the soldiers housed in Camp de Châlons had been built specifically for them. Local men and women looking for work found it there and it provided a spot for the soldiers to congregate without disrupting the rest of Reims. Often the USO would provide entertainment, but today they just had a large jukebox going.

Alice grabbed a glass of wine from the bar before finding a spot to sit. To her surprise, it didn’t really fill up; she supposed a lot of the men were probably exhausted and were resting. Not that she minded. The steady rumble of voices stayed relatively low so she could hear the music. Alice sipped at her wine and pulled out a letter Vest had handed her earlier. She opened it.

_“Dear Alice,_

_Well, my dear, I don’t know when this’ll find you, hun, but I can only hope it comes to you in a timely fashion. We haven’t heard much good news since your last letter in December. The news is going on and on about the Yanks and Patton and some such things, but of course you’re never in those stories. We did see some newsreels of the other boys though. Madeleine insists you’re fine. For once I think I’ll believe my sister._

_“It just turned to February this morning. It’s been a cold winter, but based on the films, you had an even colder one. The good news is since that fight in Belgium, it seems we’re winning. Well and truly winning, my dear. I only wish my husband had lived to see that day._

_“There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s plenty of things you want to keep to yourself. So don’t worry about trying to tell me what you went through. I knew enough not to press my husband for details. So whenever you can write me, just let me know the weather and the song you last listened to, things like that. Madeleine, Maggie, and Percy all say hello, as well. Keep fighting, Alice._

_“Love, Millie Bratt.”_

With a small smile, Alice folded the letter back up. Millie’s strong script somehow made home and safety feel just that much closer. Home.

Alice felt her breath catch at the very thought. Home? Her eyes scanned the crowd in the bar. The brown and tan paratrooper dress uniforms combined with the dresses of civilian girls certainly didn’t scream ‘home’ in her mind. If she was honest with herself, Alice didn’t really know what home meant anymore. The only consistent association she held with the word home were people, names.

The music had changed to slower beats. Jitterbug forgotten, the men with dates moved into the center of the dance area. Alice returned to sipping at her wine when the chair in front of her got pulled out and occupied.

She looked up. Her smile grew. “George.”

“Have seen you in ages!” He lit a cigarette and settled back. “Where you been hiding?”

“In bed,” Alice said, laughing.

George snickered. “Fair enough.”

He sipped at a beer, and she sipped her wine. As George counted up bills, likely from a poker match if Alice had to guess, she just sat quietly. Sentimental Journey played in the background. The alcohol warmed her body, causing a slight tingle in her extremities. She relaxed.

“So, you and Cap’n Nixon?”

Alice choked on her wine. The smart-ass grin that spread across his face said all she needed to know; he’d caught her off guard enough that her reaction had betrayed her. After she got control over herself, Alice put her elbows on the table and leaned in.

“What?”

“You and Nixon,” he repeated. Still grinning, he copied her pose. He took out his cigarette and blew out some of the smoke. “I suspected it, years ago. Thank you for confirming.”

“Confirmed what? How? I have no idea what you mean,” she sputtered. “Damn it, George.”

He laughed. “Oh be quiet. The way you look at him is enough. You watch him all the time. And,” George added. “He does the same to you.”

“He’s married, George, so nothing is going on, nor will anything be going on,” Alice snapped. Her heart raced. “Besides, we’re in the middle of a fucking war, George.”

He nodded and plopped his cigarette back in his mouth. “I know, I know. Pity.” Then he smirked again. “But, all I said was four words, ‘you and Captain Nixon,’ which could have been completely innocent, and yet you knew exactly what I meant. So, I rest my case.”

Alice was about to respond when Talbert, Grant, and Shifty wandered over. She could feel the heat in her face. As George turned to talk to the other Sergeants, she gave an inward, silent scream, and stood. “George, let’s dance.”

The knowing smirk he sent her way almost made her want to punch him. But he nodded and stood from the table. “Shifty, make sure these two don’t take our drinks, yeah?”

“Get outta here, George,” Talbert heckled. 

With the music still subdued tunes from the lines of Glenn Miller and Doris Day, they moved into the dance space. With a half-hearted glare, Alice took his hand to dance. He smirked right back at her.

“So, do you?” he asked, more sincere. 

Alice sighed and shook her head. She looked away as George led. Then she glanced back at him. “Do I what?” At his expression, she gritted her teeth. “Even if I did, which is entirely theoretical, he’s already married, George.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard plenty of rumors about how that marriage goes,” George told her.

She frowned at him. Taking several moments to just move to the slow music, she debated her response. Finally she settled on simply, “He has a responsibility as a Nixon.”

George watched her more closely. He dropped his smirk and seemed to actually consider his next words more carefully. “Be honest. Are you...?”

“Am I in love with him?”

“Hah, your words, not mine.”

“Fuck off,” Alice snapped. But she didn’t move. When he apologized and waited for her to continue, she sighed. “Unfortunately, I think I am. But once more I will point out that first off, he is married, and second, we’re fighting a goddamn war.”

“Not ideal circumstances,” George agreed.

They fell back into silence. The slow sway of dancing to Moonlight Cocktail had her doing all sorts of thinking. George didn’t say anything else. When the song ended, they dropped hands. He looked at her.

She huffed. “Don’t-”

“I ain’t gonna say anything,” he told her. “Don’t you trust me enough to know that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah I do.”

With a nod to each other, they headed back over to the table. George started smirking again, immediately falling back into his well trained, clownish persona. Tab had pulled over a fifth chair so as George and Alice retook their seats, they settled into easy conversation.

“Wish I knew what you two were talkin’ about,” Tab said, chuckling. “Looked pretty heated at one point there.”

“Eh, you know. She’s just getting mad at me for flirting, the usual,” George said.

Grant started snickering into his beer. “No one’s surprised.” After taking a long drink, he looked at the whole table. “So did you hear about Ike?”

“What about him?” George asked.

“The whole 101st is getting a citation, apparently,” he said. “Shifty, you’re the one who told me, right?”

Shifty nodded. “Yes indeed. Word is General Eisenhower’s going to give the whole Division a Presidential Distinguished Unit Citation next week.”

“Has that ever been done before?” Talbert asked.

Shifty shook his head. “No, no it hasn’t. We’re gettin’ it because of Bastogne.”

They chatted aimlessly for a while, enjoying beers and small talk. They steered the conversation as far from Bastogne as they could. After a while, they each started sharing letters they’d received from back home after their months on the line. Eventually they came to Alice.

“Yeah, I got one,” she said with a smile.

“No shit?” George relaxed back in his chair with a cigarette. “Who from?”

“Millie.”

He and Talbert started smiling. Turning to Grant and Shifty, Alice went on to explain. “I don’t know if you two ever really met my billet host?”

“Nope, just heard about her,” Grant said.

Alice nodded. “Millie Bratt, what a fantastic woman,” she said, smiling. “She lost her husband in the war, lives with her younger sister and her son, Percy. Great family.”

“Not fond of the Yanks, if I recall,” Talbert teased.

She started laughing. With a shake of her head, Alice didn’t correct him. “No. But the Airborne grew on her. She held similar opinions to me when I came to America.”

“Wait, what?” George sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

Alice’s drink rested on her lips as she froze. The men around the table looked genuinely confused and slightly concerned. She put her drink down. “You mean… You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Talbert demanded.

Alice winced a bit. “That I didn’t exactly like Americans? You had to have at least suspected it!”

“Boys, I think we’ve been insulted,” George said. He looked at her with an incredulous grin before turning to them. “Shift, did you know?”

“Well, as a matter ‘a fact, I did suspect it.” He shot her an apologetic smile. “Not that we gave ya’ much reason to like us, now did we?”

“What!” Talbert protested. “What do you mean?”

Grant just started chuckling. “Holy shit, Alice. The truth comes out.” He downed another drink of his beer. 

Shifty shrugged. “Lot ‘a people called her a Nazi,” he reminded the other three. “I think we all heard it quite a few times, and I don’t really remember any of y’all, myself included of course, making them stop in the beginning. I think some of Easy even joined in.” He turned to Alice. “Especially after you did such an excellent job running Currahee. Wow, that was a sight. Sobel made you mad over the wrong thing, I reckon.”

Alice smiled at Shifty before looking around the table. She didn’t hold Toccoa against anyone in Easy, least of all the men gathered with her. In fact, seeing them glaring at the table or their drinks, refusing to meet her gaze, reminded her just how much they cared.

“We’re all very different people now,” she decided to say, “after three years. And even if that wasn’t true, I don’t hold those first weeks against anyone from Easy.” When they looked up at her, she suppressed a grin and continued, “No, that’s not the real reason I didn’t particularly like Americans. I found Americans to be overly-opinionated, brash, unpolite, border-line stupid-”

“Hey!” 

At the objections all of them raised, she started laughing. Alice took a drink of her wine. “No, I’m just kidding. I just, I felt like America had waited too long to enter the war. I guess I always just figured the States were several years too late.”

“Well, we’re here now and we’re winning it,” Talbert said, raising his glass. “To the Allies. Currahee.”

“Hear, hear,” Alice said.

They all clinked drinks. It didn’t take much longer for the group to decide to head back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. The trucks would stop departing in an hour, at midnight, so they didn’t want to waste too much time. Alice grabbed her purchases and hurried with them away from the bar. The night quieted as they left the city to catch a truck. 

Alice took the time to think. As they bounced down the road in the back of the troop truck, she stayed quiet. Her mind drifted back to years past. But soon, thoughts of her warm bedroom and hot shower overtook her nostalgia. She couldn’t wait to sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

“Let’s make this more interesting.”

As soon as Alice heard Lewis Nixon utter those five simple words, she bit her cheek. Nixon sat across from her, Harry to her left and Ron to her right. The small wooden table they were using for card games sat in the middle of Nixon’s room in the Camp de Châlons. No one knew where Dick had gone off to; since being officially given the Battalion Commander position, he’d been thoroughly occupied. But he was getting paid as a Major, so Nixon never let him complain.

“What’d you have in mind, Lewis?” Harry drawled. He rearranged the cards in his hand, leaned back against his chair. 

It made Alice smirk every time Harry used Lewis instead of Nixon. The sass practically dripped from his voice each time. With her only cheeky grin, she leaned forward. Putting her elbows on the table, Alice took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew a cloud of smoke. “Yeah, Lewis. What’d you have in mind?”

He smirked. “Up the stakes. For every fold, you have to take a shot. And add one each consecutive time,” he added. Turning to his left, he gestured to Ron. “You in?”

Ron scoffed. “Well, since you’re about to lose, Nixon, I’m definitely in.” After placing another ten dollars in the center of the poker table, he put his cards down. “Call.”

The almost imperceptible groan from Harry made Alice chuckle. She’d already folded for that round. She’d won three out of the last ten rounds, her winnings coming to a total of 132 dollars thus far. But that round, she’d had zero luck.

“Jesus Christ, how’d you get a straight flush,” Nixon muttered. He slammed his own cards onto the table with a grunt. He poured what was left of the communal bottle of Vat 69 into his glass. “Alice, you’re dealing.”

“Pass them over.”

While Nixon pushed his chair out to get another bottle of whiskey, Ron and Harry passed over their cards. For a moment Alice just shuffled. The cards snapped into place as she did a bridge. Twice more, and then she began to pass them out.

“Deuces are wild,” Alice decided. “Let’s make it even more interesting.”

After their initial ante, Harry started the betting at five dollars. Alice almost dropped out right there, as all she had to her name was an ace as her high card. But when the bets got around to her and she stared down her competition, she decided to hold on. Alice took a long breath of her cigarette before adding the fifteen that she owed and raising it three.

She turned to her left. “Right, Harry?” 

“Gimme two,” he decided. The cards he handed her started a discard pile. When he took the two new ones, a tiny bit of a smile crept into his expression. “Thank you.”

“Nix?”

“Three.”

She almost caught the three he tossed over. After placing them in the discards, she handed three more back to him. He grinned as well. Alice scoffed. “Tu as l'air heureux.” He did, in fact, look quite pleased with himself.

He shrugged and lit a cigarette. At the flick of his lighter closing, he smirked her way. “Tu m'as donné de bonnes cartes.”

With half a snort, half a laugh, Alice shook her head. Good cards? She’d have to wait and see. Part of her bet he was bluffing. With a quick glance to either side of her, she started chuckling. “Parlent-ils français?” 

“Non, je ne le pense pas,” he said, suppressing his own laugh.

“If you two could stick to English,” Harry muttered.

Ron scoffed. “Let ‘em cheat if they want, Welsh. Just means more alcohol for us.”

Cracking up, Alice shook her head and took the two cards that he handed her. She shook her head. Quick as a flash, she handed him two more. Then she looked her own over. “Dealer takes four.”

“Four? Jesus, how bad is your hand?” Nixon heckled. “Just fold, take the shot.”

“As much as I would love to drink your entire stash of whiskey, Nix, I’m fully capable of keeping up with the three of you in this game, and I intend to.” Alice looked at the four cards she’d drawn. Three of Clubs, Three of Spades, Two of Spades, Three of Hearts, Ace of Clubs. Three of a kind. Then she remembered she’d called twos wild. Four of a kind. “In fact,” Alice said, grinning. “I’m quite ready to keep betting. Harry, you’re up.”

“Four dollars,” he said.

Nixon matched his four and raised two, and Ron matched the six and raised another five. With eleven to her name, Alice tossed the money into the pot and grinned. “Alright, my bet. I raise fifteen.”

“Jesus Christ!” Nixon muttered.

Harry sat up straighter in his chair and turned to her. Pointing at her, he shook his head. “I think you’re bluffing, Klein.”

With a small laugh, she turned from them to Ron. He’d not said anything. After taking a long breath, he blew a cloud of smoke out and turned to her. “You’re either bluffing, or cheating.”

“I resent that.”

“Good.”

In the end, they all agreed to match the fifteen dollar raise. Alice guessed it was mostly out of pride. None of them wanted to fold while the other two stayed in. So when they called, she just smiled.

“Four threes,” she said.

All three of them groaned and cursed. Slaps of cards on the table just added to the angry grunts of the men who’d given her over one hundred and fifty dollars in a single round. She tried her very hardest not to laugh.

“Merci, mes amis.” She grabbed the crumpled bills from the center of the table, straightening them in her hands. “Thank you.” She began to hum Le Chant des Partisans, grin refusing to fade. 

“I’m done,” Harry muttered. “I’m not losing any more money to your unbelievable luck tonight.” He pushed himself back in the chair, trying to relax. With another sigh, he turned his head to Nixon. “Any word as to our next move?”

“The Airborne?” When Harry nodded, Nixon shrugged. “Soon, I’d think. Could be in the next week. Hitler’s boys don’t have any fight left in them after Bastogne.”

Ron nodded. “It’s about time we got into Germany.”

With the card game forgotten, Alice let them chat about the war. She herself had all sorts of mixed feelings about the inevitable return to Germany. They’d only been off the line for a little while, and she had an urge to stay. Part of her feared what returning to Germany would bring. 

She’d drifted off into her own musings, sipping at a glass of Vat 69 and silently shuffling the deck of cards, when a knock on the door interrupted them. When Nixon called for whoever it was to enter, it surprised her to see George standing in the door, hands in his pockets.

“What d’you want, Luz,” Harry heckled him.

He laughed under his breath and shook his head. “Sorry to interrupt, sirs. Major Winters sent me. Got a note for ya’.” Walking in, he handed over a slip of paper to Nixon. Then he smirked at them. “Off the record, of course, but how bad she beat you?”

Alice burst out laughing. Before she or any of the officers could respond, though, George followed up. “I only ask, ‘cause she beat Malark and Babe pretty good and now I’m curious.”

“I beat you and Malark and Babe, thank you very much,” Alice said. 

Nix scoffed as he finished the note from Dick. But he shook his head. “She got very lucky.”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” He smirked at her before heading out the door. “Night, sirs.”

As the door shut behind him, Nixon pushed himself away from the table. He shook his head. “Gonna need to kick you all out. Dick says Sink and Strayer need me.”

“Now? It’s close to midnight!” But Harry didn’t argue, just pushed his chair in as he stood away from the table. The others followed, and he down the last bit of his drink. “He say why?”

“Nope. But there’ve been rumors of a drop for the boys in the 17th. Could be about that.”

“They better not get to jump into Berlin,” Harry muttered.

As Alice shifted her coat back on. Soon they’d left the housing given to the Battalion officers and walked out into the night. Ron and Nixon both split off towards the left, but Alice trailed slowly in the dark just behind Harry. Now that the fun of the poker had ended, a deep emptiness hit her like a train. She couldn’t explain it really. A deep, visceral pang of grief and nostalgia filled her entire body.

“You look pale even in the dark,” Harry commented. He’d turned around and stood in front of her.

Alice realized she must’ve stopped walking. With a shrug, she folded her arms across her chest. “It’s fine.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me,” he scoffed.

She glared and snapped at him. “What do you want, Harry?”

He started smirking. Taking his canteen out and downing a drink, he then pointed her way. “That’s the easiest way to tell when you’re not fine.”

“What?”

“You get snippy and defensive every single time. You’re really predictable.”

Alice didn’t move. She just stared at him, no words. It didn’t take long for him to smirk at her and take another drink. Water or whiskey, she had no idea. Both equally likely. Another few beats passed before Harry just laughed.

“I actually made you speechless. Wow.”

“What do you want, Harry?” she finally muttered.

He shrugged. “You tell me.”

Alice stayed put. She stood in the center of the walkway back towards their lodging. Her room was in one of the other officer buildings, same as his. A gentle wind blew around them, rustling the trees that had just started getting some leaves back. She didn’t answer. The ground became incredibly fascinating.

“Is it Germany?”

She frowned even deeper. Meeting his gaze, she shrugged. “It’s just… it’s a lot. To be honest, I’ve not been sleeping as well as I could,” she admitted. “If Guarnere were here, he’d get all mad about me thinking too much.”

Harry laughed for a moment before his own smile faded. “Yeah, he would. But I think your problem isn’t too much thinking.”

She sighed. “Oh?”

“It’s that you never talk about what you’re thinking.” He passed her his canteen. As Alice sniffed it and confirmed that it was, in fact, whiskey, he smiled. “Do you trust us?”

“What?”

“Do you trust us?”

She stared at him before handing back his canteen. Did she trust them? “Why?”

He hummed. “You know, you’re an absolute expert at non-answer answers, Alice. You’ve been an expert at it since I met you in Mackall. And you still do it, almost two years later.” Harry shook his head. He sighed. 

For a few moments, Alice hovered in a limbo between furious, touched, and defeated. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her chest at his directness. But she didn’t have the words. How was she supposed to explain that some nights she woke up with the sight of a mangled Bill Guarnere before her eyes? Other nights, it was cold hands trailing up her thighs and between her legs. Still others, the sharp crack of a luger and the bloody mess of her brother’s body on the ground before her. Some nights she could hear the screams of dying women and children in Eindhoven. And some, she woke up unable to breathe.

Her shoulders sagged. Alice felt herself physically deflating at the way Harry refused to leave her alone. She looked away again, biting at her lip. It took several moments for her to turn back. “What do you want from me, Harry?”

“Do you trust us?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. One more drink. Then he looked at her closer. “You know it’s been over nine months of combat, nine months of sharing foxholes and CPs, and I don’t think I know a single story about you as a kid. I wouldn’t even have known Alice wasn’t your real name if not for Nixon,” he pointed out.

“What’s your point?”

Harry shrugged. “If you trust us, why is that? You know all about me and Kitty, and you know all about Nixon’s family and their empire, you know about Dick’s wrestling escapades. I hear you talk about Luz’s sisters, and I find it hard to believe he’s the only one of the enlisted who you know intimate details about.” He paused, and she didn’t respond. “What do we know about you? You’re a damn good linguist. You can play piano and you can sing. You had siblings, and I found out a couple months ago you had cousins. I don’t even know what University you attended. Friends’ names? Any pets? Favorite color? It took Nixon snooping around the enlisted to learn about your damn birthday.”

Alice winced. “Your point?”

“You are an absolutely essential part of this group of guys, Alice,” he insisted. “It blows me away, honestly. You somehow manage to balance being at ease with everyone, regardless of rank. You’re almost universally respected by the men who actually know you, which, by the way, isn’t easy considering you're a woman, and German.” He paused and shook his head. “So, why are you still hiding?”

Her breathing stopped. After a moment, she covered her mouth out of stress, trying to think of what to say. Everything he said was true. Finally she pulled her hand away and nodded. “I do trust you, Harry. I trust Easy. I do.” She took a shuddering breath. “There’s just a lot. A lot that you and Easy can’t understand.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Such a simple question for such an ugly, complicated answer. She shuddered again. But Alice had meant it. She trusted him. She trusted Easy. 

“Because when the chips fall, Harry, you and the other men in this Company don’t understand what it’s like to get pinned against a wall and attacked by someone you can’t resist. And whether I like it or not, or, or understand it or not, everything about who I was before ‘Alice’ is tied that moment, and the moment in the days before that where I made the decision to use my body against the Nazis.” She took a deep breath. “I do trust you. I just trust Alice more than I trust Adélaïde.”

He didn’t respond. They stood in silence for a while, the wind moving through the street around them. She didn’t look at him. Finally he gave a small laugh under his breath and shook his head.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Kitty. She’s gonna love you.” Then he smirked. “Alice, and Adélaïde.”

She gave a small laugh. After another few beats of silence, Harry handed her his canteen back. She took it gratefully and downed the whiskey. 

“Not too much, don’t want you turning into Nixon,” he warned.

Alice snorted. “Yeah, he has been drinking a lot recently, hasn’t he?”

“Too much.”

It didn’t take long to reach their housing after that. She said good night to Harry in the hallway. After a brief hesitation, Alice headed into her room in silence. Her bed awaited her, another sleep that would end any number of ways, and probably none of them well. Germany lay ahead. And Germany meant memories.


	26. Chapter 26

**March 24, 1945**

_Stürzelberg, Dormagen, Germany_

* * *

She hadn’t imagined that the return to Germany would be as uneventful as how it played out. They’d arrived in Dormagen not to machine guns and artillery but to mooing cows and loud reminders to keep fraternizing to a minimum. The first time Alice heard a pair of young women speaking German at the side of a road, though, the feeling of home crashed into her, hard. She stood in Germany.

Now, a couple of days into their occupation of Stürzelberg in Dormagen on the Rhine, she found herself up before the dawn. Alice sat down beneath an apple tree outside a farmhouse on the edge of town. The light pink, blue, and gold of the early morning cascaded across the sky with only a handful of clouds in the way. She took a deep breath through her nose. Then she released it.

After sitting there for an hour, Alice decided to take a walk. While there were some German companies across the river, only sporadic fire was exchanged. She didn’t worry too much about walking around. With gentle ease, Alice strolled around the green spaces outside the town of Stürzelberg itself. For miles in all directions, farmland stretched to the horizon. 

“You’re up early, Lieutenant!”

Alice turned towards Garcia at his call. He and Hashey walked side by side from a barn nearby, Easy’s HQ. They looked almost as at ease as their time in Mourmelon-le-Grand. It made her smile. She waited for them to join. “I figured I’d take a walk up to the outpost.”

“Hey, we’re posted there next,” Hashey said, grinning.

“Hey, Lieutenant, where in Germany are you from?” asked Garcia.

She smiled. As they continued down the lane towards the outpost on the river, she turned back to them. “Hamburg, up north. It’s quite different from here in Dormagen,” she explained. “This is a lot smaller. I’ve never been here.”

Garcia nodded. “When’d you leave?” 

“We moved to Paris in 1934. I was almost 14.”

Hashey tried to suppress a yawn. With a quick apology, he tried to explain. “We were up late last night.”

“Doing what?” Alice asked.

“Well, George and Perco were messing with a civilian radio,” Garcia tried to explain. “And then Lieb somehow managed to get a hold of several cases of beer.”

“Did he now?” With a laugh, Alice shook her head. “I’m not surprised. I lucked out; with Captain Nixon gone, there was a lot less alcohol available. I actually slept a decent amount.”

Hashey smirked. “Is his Vat 69 stash as endless as they say?”

“Who’s they?”

“Everyone.”

Alice chuckled. “It’s not. He’s almost out, actually. I think he’s only got a couple of bottles left.”

They reached the outpost soon enough, relieving a couple of the newest replacements including John Janovec. Alice had met him back in Mourmelon. It surprised her how well he seemed to fit in with the men. And as an added bonus, he seemed entirely unperturbed about her existence.

“Morning, Lieutenant!” He saluted, a grin on his face. When she returned the gesture, he nodded and let his hand drop. “Sleep okay?”

“Hey, Janovec. Slept pretty well, yeah,” she said, smiling. “Anything interesting?”

Janovec shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added with a grin. “But, I’ve got plans, so I’ll leave you-” he pointed to the others- “to take over.”

“Get outta here, Janovec,” Hashey heckled. 

“I’m going! I’m going!”

As Les Hashey and Tony Garcia got comfortable, Alice watched Janovec disappear down the road. She couldn’t shake the smile on her face at the way everyone now seemed less worried and more comfortable than ever. For a while she just stood and waited.

“Hey, Lieutenant, have you heard those stories the brass are spreading, about the death camps?” Garcia asked, settling back. “I heard some of the guys saying it’s all propaganda. I mean, the Germans have been great.”

Alice stiffened. The usually imperceptible weight of the letters from Elsa became like a millstone in her breast pocket. She didn’t have an answer. What Garcia said was true. She tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t be too personal. “I’m not sure. I know that the Jews of Europe sure think they’re real, in some way. It would be good labor, having men and women working for them. I don’t know about death camps, though.” So far Germany had seemed relatively calm.

Garcia and Hashey both nodded. The former sat back and grabbed a book off the small table. For a few more minutes, Alice stood and watched out the front of the outpost across the river. She glanced down at her watch. 0820 hours.

“I’ll see you boys later, alright? Stay outta trouble.”

As they said goodbye to her, she turned back towards the town. The walk made her feel infinitely better: fresh air, the occasional background rumblings of German civilians, birds, cows, a natural choir to sooth her nerves. After several detours, she reached the city center. The grey and brown brick buildings rose up on all sides, seemingly untouched by the war. 

Across the street, she saw Ron walking with a ridiculous amount of silver in his hands. Some candlesticks, a couple trays, and what looked like a cup or two balanced between his hands. It got harder to suppress a smile as she saw him making his way into the street. 

She gasped in surprise as a jeep careened into him- almost. At the last second, Ron pulled back, saving all the silver in the process. He looked about ready to murder the jeep driver when he and she both realized that Nixon rode in the passenger seat. Alice narrowed her eyes in confusion. Why was he back so soon?

Alice hurried towards Ron as the jeep continued on. He caught sight of her after a moment and waited. With a small frown and glance back down the steadily-thickening crowd on the street, she hoped to catch sight of Nixon. But she couldn’t.

“What’s got him in such a shitty mood,” Ron muttered. “Here, carry this.” 

Alice took the tray that dangled from two of his fingers. She just shrugged. “No idea. This morning was the jump with the 17th, right? Operation Varsity?”

“Yeah, yeah it was.”

They moved into the post office. Just as Ron moved through the door, two corporals startled. Ron moved through them, and Alice slipped in behind. They nodded to her on their way past. The back wall had at least a dozen cubbies of different sizes filled with packages and parcels. A long, wooden bar top stood between the mail and the rest of the room. Ron lost no time in setting the silver on the table, and Alice followed suit. 

Vest, down at the other end, glance over. After a moment of looking at the spoils, he nodded with a smile. “Good morning, sirs.”

“Morning,” Ron acknowledged. “You got a box all this stuff’ll fit into?”

As Vest moved over to them, Ron pulled two packs of Lucky Strikes out of his pocket and set them up on the bar, on Vest’s side. Immediately the man grinned.

“Yes, sir, I think so. Same destination?” Vest picked up the two cigarette packs and slipped them into his own pocket. He looked at the stuff Ron had.

Ron nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yes sir, I’ll make it goes out first thing tomorrow morning,” he assured him.

“Thank you, private.” 

“Boy your folks sure are gonna have quite a collection by the time you...get home, sir,” stuttered Vest.

But Ron just grinned. “Finders keepers.”

As Ron left the post office, Alice couldn’t suppress her own grin at his antics. With a nod at Vest, she went to follow him.

“Oh! Lieutenant! I’ve got a couple letters for you, while you’re here.” Vest went to one of the cubbies on the wall and started sorting through the envelopes. Finally he found two for her. “Here you go.”

Alice grinned and thanked him. As she hurried out into the street again, Alice thought about digging into the letter straight away. But the memory of Nixon’s dramatic arrival into Stürzelberg made her wait. Her smile faltered as she hurried towards the Headquarters where she and the other officers had taken up residence. 

Alice took the two brick steps up quickly. Her boots pounded against the hardwoods when she walked inside. A few members of Battalion Headquarters scurried about on the ground floor. After looking around for a few moments, she decided to go up the stairs. Nixon and Dick had rooms on the second floor.

The wooden stairs creaked a bit beneath her Corcoran boots. When she reached the top of the stairs, she could hear Dick’s voice from Nixon’s room on the left. She caught the tail end of their conversation.

“Not bad for a man who’s never fired his weapon in combat, huh.”

“Really? Really, you’ve never-”

“Nope.”

Alice moved into the doorway where Dick stood chewing on a scone. She peered past him into the floral-wallpapered room. Nixon sat on the bed facing the other direction, taking off his boots. Neither of them had noticed her yet.

“Not even with all the action we’ve seen?”

As Nixon tossed his boots against the wall, he stood up. “Not around.”

Even before she looked at his face, Alice knew something was wrong. His voice had even more of the dry sarcasm than usual for Lewis Nixon. Bitterness, not teasing, laced his tone. While Dick moved to the right of the doorway to sit against the dresser, Nixon went straight for a bottle of Vat 69. 

Dick glanced her way and nodded. She nodded back. With another few bites of the scone, Dick looked Nixon over. “So, uh, how’d it go this morning? The jump?”

Nixon finally looked their way. With a brief moment of hesitation, he looked at Alice leaning against the door frame, and then at Dick. The glass of Vat 69 in his hand sat down by his waist, untouched. He gripped it so tight, Alice thought maybe it would break.

“It was great,” he drawled. With even more spite, he added, “Fantastic.” After another glance Alice’s way, he turned away from them towards the curtained window. “Took a direct hit over the drop zone. I got out. Two others got out.” He downed half his glass.

Alice tore her gaze away from his back and looked at Dick. He did the same to her. With a frown, his scone forgotten, Dick just nodded. “The rest of the boys?”

“Oh, they blew up over Germany somewhere.” Nixon spun towards them, trying to act nonchalant. He smirked. “Boom.”

“Yeah.” Dick paused. “I’m sorry.”

Nixon scoffed. “About what?”

“Well, tough situation for-”

The bitter grin that spread across Nixon’s face made Alice’s heart drop. He almost chuckled. “Oh yeah, the boys.” He turned to Dick straight on before shaking his head, the same smile plastered on his face. “Oh well, wasn’t me!”

The second half of his Vat 69 disappeared down his throat dramatically. Alice had no words. Beside her, she could see Dick debating what to say as well. When neither of them spoke, Nixon rambled on.

“You know, the real tragedy is, they lost their CO. So guess who gets to write all the letters home?” While trying to refill his shot glass, Nixon realized his bottle had run out. With a glare at the glass bottle, he stalked towards the door and tossed it in the metal trash bin. “Goddamn nightmare.”

Alice let him pass unhindered. They went into the large study that lay between the hall and the bedroom. The seven bottles of Vat 69 on the carved mahogany table sat as testament to just how much Nixon had been drinking. Alice had noticed it back in Mourmelon-le-Grand, once he’d gotten access to more Vat 69. He’d stocked up on as much as he could, but Alice had noticed it disappearing faster than usual, and Nixon had been pushing for more and more drinking games during poker nights.

As Nixon rifled through the various bottles to find one with whiskey still in it, Dick moved further into the room. He made eye contact with Alice first before turning back to their clearly disturbed friend. He sighed. “Got a visit from Colonel Sink this morning.”

“And how is the good colonel?” Nixon muttered.

“Concerned.”

Nixon snorted, highly amused at Dick’s estimation. He slipped into a chair at the table and sat back. He downed another drink.

“Still drinking nothing but the Vat 69, huh?”

Another grin spread across Nixon’s face. But it faltered as he spoke, holding up the glass in salute. “Nothing but the finest for Mrs. Nixon’s baby boy.”

“That a problem up at Regiment?”

Alice’s eyes widened as she tore her gaze away from Nixon. Dick leaned against the back of another chair at the table. He didn’t look at Alice.

“What? This? That what he said?” His expression darkened as he finally turned to look at Alice. “No. I just don’t like it up there.”

As Dick went to tell him that he was being transferred back down to Battalion, she just held Nixon’s gaze. She couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched her. But suddenly he shuddered and turned away. He stared off into space for a moment.

“What do you think I should write to these parents?”

Dick paused for a moment. He glanced down at the floor. “Hear what I said, Nix?” Then he glanced up. “You’ve been demoted.”

Nixon rolled his eyes at Dick. “Yeah, demoted, got you. ‘Cause, I don’t know how to tell them their kids never even made it outta the goddamn plane.”

Without hesitation, Dick answered him. “You tell 'em what you always tell 'em. Their sons died as heroes.”

The pause before Nixon responded said as much as his words. “You really still believe that?”

With a tiny nod, Dick just replied with a simple, “Yeah. Yeah I do. Don’t you?”

For a moment, Nixon just stared at him. The tiniest smirk graced his features as he didn’t respond. Alice’s heart broke. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from his worn expression. After a moment, once Nixon averted his gaze to study the bottles on the table, she turned to Dick. Without a word, she just looked from Dick to Nixon and back. Dick hesitated, chewing at his cheek. Then he nodded.

“I’ve gotta go finish those Supply reports,” he said.

Nixon didn’t respond at first. His attention was on another planet. So Alice turned to Dick, who stood unsure what to do. She told him silently to go ahead. With a small nod and pat of the back of the chair he’d been leaning against, Dick moved past her where she stood near the door and left the room.

“Hey,” she finally said, voice low.

Her small greeting pulled him out of his blank-faced musings, back up the rabbit hole of his thoughts. He glanced up at her. She couldn’t quite explain it to herself, but Alice could see the pain in his eyes. With a tight half-smile, she pushed off the wall and moved over to the table. Once she sat across from him and scooted one of the green Vat 69 bottles to the side out of her line of sight, she took a deep breath. “Would you like me to write the letters?”

For the first time since she’d seen him after the jump, he actually smiled. It was a genuine smile, no bitterness, but a bit of disbelief. He gave a tiny scoff under his breath. As his smile faltered a bit, he shook his head. “No. It’s my job.”

“On the bright side, you’re working with the Battalion again,” Alice pointed out.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah. More time with you.” After a tiny pause, he hurriedly continued, “And Dick and Harry. Less dealing with the brass.”

Alice felt her chest tighten. For a moment she just looked at him. Her brain screamed at her, reminding her he was married and they were in a war. No official policy existed over fraternization between servicemen given she was the only woman in combat, but she knew it wouldn’t go over well. Not that she could even think of such things given he was married.

When she didn’t respond, he took another drink. “Unfortunately, it means more of Ron,” he tried to joke.

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Immediately she buried her tension and shook her head. “Well, you almost ran him over today. He certainly won’t be happy about that.”

“If only I’d had better aim,” he muttered, smirking. “Can’t stand that guy.”

Alice laughed again. “Be nice to Ron. He’s great.”

“Not as great as me.”

“No. But Easy can’t afford to lose another commander,” she added. “If you don’t spare Ron out of the goodness of your heart, at least spare him for me, okay?”

“Fine.”

They fell into a comfortable quiet again. In the silence, Alice watched him. He sat a little less tense, his hand around his glass trembled less. Though he still took shots, they were smaller and less frequent. 

“Can we write them together?” she ventured. When he looked over, she realized she needed something else to convince him to let her help. “I never get to thank them. Americans, putting your lives at risk for me, for us. Maybe if I help you, I’ll sleep a little better?”

She knew, as soon as Nixon looked her in the eyes, that he could see right through her explanation. He knew as well as she that she wasn’t doing it for herself. But after a brief moment, he nodded. But it did the trick, gave him permission to accept the help. “Yeah, yeah why not.”

With a smile, Alice nodded. “Good. Better get some paper then.”

After she retrieved the paper from where she knew he stowed it in his bedroom, Alice hurried back to the table. Nixon had cleared the bottles to the side at least, if not off the table altogether. She passed him the stack of paper and a pencil. After looking down at the blank sheets for a moment, he pulled a page from his breast pocket. The list of names lay beside the letters.

For over an hour, they worked on what to say and how to say it. Every minute, Alice could see Nixon tensing. He downed a bit more per drink each time. His handwriting grew more shaky. But in the end, a dozen letters had been written and signed. Though thoroughly buzzed, Nixon held it together well.

“Nix, take a nap. I’ll take these to Strayer,” she offered. When he went to object, she shook her head. “Please, go take a nap.”

At her plea, he paused. It took several moments of him standing by the table, shot glass in hand sitting against the wood. But then he nodded. With his promise to go to bed, she went down the stairs carefully. 

Her chest hurt. Her body felt tight. She just wanted a cigarette. But she needed to deliver the letters to Strayer.


	27. Chapter 27

Two days later, Nixon had settled into some small routine being back at the Battalion level. Alice watched him when she could. All she wanted to do was hug him, tell him things would turn out alright. After the initial shock of losing the kids in the plane during the jump, he’d managed to put on an air of nonchalance and teasing. 

Around 1000 hours, Alice found herself sitting at a table in the city center. She’d just opened a letter from Millie. As the men of Easy who weren’t out on patrol or on the line began to filter in for the lecture Nixon had been asked to lead, she turned to the second envelope she’d gotten a couple days prior. She didn’t recognize the handwriting. But the first line stopped her from breathing.

_“Hey Sweetheart,_

_“Joe’s with me too. He said he’d write his own but I said that was fucking stupid since postage costs so much. We’ve been stuck inside goddamn hospitals for months now. Stupid docs are worse than Doc Roe when it comes to being careful. I told them to hell with it. Gimme a crutch and let me go._

_“Joe’s worse off than me. He’s gonna be here a lot longer, and he’s pretty pissed over it too. Yeah, he just told me he’s ready to die in his sleep to get outta here. I’m getting shipped back to the States in a week or so, probably to another fucking hospital. God I hate this. I’m fine. They should just let me go back to Philly._

_“Right now we’re in England. You wouldn’t believe who stopped by yesterday. Millie stopped in, said she and Maddie’d heard from you about us getting hit and their middle sister, Maggie I think, she pulled some strings at her job to find us. Always knew she was a good one. Fucking fantastic family, those Bratts._

_“I heard from Johnny a while ago. I couldn’t fucking believe that Speirs took over for Dike. The man’s insane. Joe just said he’s not as insane as me, but I beg to differ. I know you like him though (no accounting for taste I suppose) so hopefully he straightens Easy out. Fucking Foxhole Norman’s worse than him, I’m sure. That jackass is almost as bad as Sobel._

_“We finally heard about the casualties from after we left thanks to Joe’s mom checking reports. Tell Malark to write us, would you? That stupid Mick’s in charge of my platoon now, and I need to make sure his head’s on straight. Watch him, would you? Don’t tell him we said that though. He’s a good man, he’ll manage, but you should help him. I’m sure you are though. Tell Luz he better write me about the thing we’d been talking about. He’ll know what I mean._

_“We’re running out of room. Joe says he better not see you on a casualty list. I agree. You gotta keep the boys from going too crazy, yeah? Don’t worry about us. But when you beat that son of a bitch who took your country, come back and visit ours._

_“Sincerely,_   
_“Bill Guarnere & Joe Toye.”_

By the time she finished reading the three page letter, Alice felt tears on her cheeks. She brushed them away with her sleeve as fast as she could and soon found herself smiling down at the note. Joe sounded like Joe, and Bill sounded like Bill. Somehow that made everything infinitely better.

“Ready for another one of these lectures?” said George, walking over. A cigarette lay between his fingers. With a deep breath, he drew the smoke in before letting it out. 

Alice snorted, flashing him a tiny smile. “Just heard from Bill and Joe.” She waved the letter in the air.

“No shit!” George grinned. “What’d they say? How’re they doing?”

“I think they’re about ready to bust out again,” Alice joked. “They were pretty shocked about Speirs taking over. Bill also said something about you needing to write him about a discussion you’d been having? Ring a bell?”

The grin that spread across George’s face concerned her. But he nodded. “Yeah. yeah I’ll get on that.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this,” Alice muttered.

George just grinned again before leaving her to her spot. He moved to a table in the middle of the space for the lecture. The replacements took the spots up front, including Janovec and O’Keefe. Christenson, Babe, and Talbert all sat near each other, with George beyond them in front of a table. Johnny, Popeye, Perco, and a few other Toccoa men rounded up the group. 

When Alice caught sight of Nixon, he stood to the side away from the men taking a drink of his flask. He looked so tired. After a moment’s hesitation, she stuffed the letter from Joe and Bill back into her pocket and made her way over to him.

“Anything interesting in today’s news?” she asked him.

He scoffed and shook his head. “Not that I know of. I haven’t actually looked through it.”

Alice smiled at him. “Is this how you made it through Yale? Going into lectures without preparing?”

“Of course,” he joked. “I never needed to study. Too smart.”

“Hm. Really?” 

Nixon smirked. “You don’t believe me?”

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Alice didn’t respond. The men had gotten themselves all into seats. She could see George shuffling a deck of cards. With another snort of genuine laughter, Nixon moved over to them. It took a minute for them to quiet down. From her spot about ten feet away, Alice just watched them with her hands across her chest and a bright smile.

As Nixon finished muttering about CARE and the need for donations of food for Europe’s citizens, Chuck Grant slipped into one of the last empty seats. He sent a shrug in the direction of Floyd Talbert who laughed at him. A few moments passed while Nixon looked down his clipboard.

“I’m sure that you’ll all be happy to know Oklahoma is still playing on Broadway,” he said next.

The effect was instantaneous. George grinned wide and popped his cigarette out of his mouth. As loud as he could, he started up the song, “Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain!”

Beside him, Pat Christenson picked it up as well, and soon the entire area was screeching the lyrics. While Nixon started smiling and directing with his finger, they brought it to a close. “And the wavin' wheat can sure smell sweet!”

But O’Keefe kept going, “When the wind comes right behind the rain!”

The entire gathered group from Easy Company burst into laughter. George downright cackled at his joke, having cut the rest of the men off to lead O’Keefe to a solo. Even Alice couldn’t stop her laughter at their antics.

“O’Keefe, are you sitting on your bayonet? Why don’t you leave the singing to Luz.” Pat joked. 

“Or Alice!” Talbert shouted.

“Yeah, unless you wanna do, uh, “Surrey with the Fringe On Top,” O’Keefe? I’m sure Alice would love a break from the girl’s part,” Luz added with a snicker.

Even as they continued to heckle him, Alice turned from the boys to Nixon. He’d flipped the page on the clipboard. “Aw.” When they turned to him, he looked up. “Rita Hayworth’s getting married.”

“Oh Rita! Say it isn’t true!” George groaned.

“She’s too good for you, George,” Alice called over.

Once more, the entire area burst into laughter. She even saw Johnny grinning where he played with his cards. They glanced her way, and George just shook his head, hand over his heart. Nixon, smirking, still looked down at his clipboard. Then his smile faltered.

“Wartime news.”

The whole area calmed down considerably. Men straightened in their chairs. The card game going on between George, Johnny, Liebgott, and More slowed. 

“Resistance in the Ruhr’s crumbling. Looks like there might be a breakout in Remagen,” he said, still reading his clipboard. “Apparently the Krauts forgot to blow up one of their bridges when they headed back over the Rhine.” With a glance up, he looked at the men and then Alice briefly. “I guess the boys in the 17th Airborne did okay after all.”

She shot him a small smile and a nod. But the men of Easy Company, namely George “I like the center of attention” Luz, just protested. With a dramatic sigh, George groaned. “Ah, forget it. We’d be in Berlin by now if it were us instead of them, sir, huh?”

The whole area started clapping and loudly agreeing with his statements. Nixon gave George a smirk and a nod. Next on his clipboard, more war news.

“In the PTO, Operation Detachment is almost complete. Looks like the Marines are going to capture Iwo Jima,” Nixon said. 

“The Marines got nothin’ on the Airborne!” someone shouted.

Another round of applause, and another smirk from Nixon. Alice just grinned at them again and shook her head. In the sunshine of occupied Germany, suddenly the war seemed further away than ever, even listening to war news.

Nixon nodded, looking at the stuff on his clipboard. He turned a page. “Churchill crossed the Rhine yesterday with Montgomery,” he said. “Crazy Brits.” To the rumble of laughter, he just shook his head with a smile. With a small nod to himself, he let the pages follow back into order.

“Oh.” He paused and looked up. “This is your reminder to keep fraternization to a minimum, boys. Keep your hands and other body parts to yourselves.” When a chorus of snickers met his order, he just shrugged. Nixon knew it was pointless, but he had to add the caveat anyways. “Right. That’s it. You’re dismissed. Don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Us, sir?” George asked, feigning innocence.

“You most of all, Luz,” Nixon quipped. “Get out of here. You all have jobs to do.”

They didn’t hang around any longer. The cafe chairs they’d commandeered were pushed in around tables and the men split to head off in various directions. Perconte, who Alice had seen half sleeping through most of the lecture, grabbed his gun and helmet from the table to his right and set off towards, she guessed, the outpost. O’Keefe scurried after him.

“Hey, anyone seen Malark.” Alice walked over to a group of the Toccoa men. 

They laughed and chatted, turning only when she interrupted. More shook his head so she turned to Johnny. He pointed down the road. “Lipton was looking for him. Try the CP. Why?”

“Got a note from Bill and Joe,” she admitted. They all perked up immediately. With a smile, she nodded. “They’re doing okay. Both of them are about ready to bust out of the hospital in England.”

“Sounds about right,” More said.

She left them to their work. The CP sat on the edge of town in a farmhouse that Easy had taken over. After making her way through the town with its stone roads and houses, her feet hit a gravel path. She saw Skinny and Shifty not too far ahead, side by side. They disappeared into the barn part of the CP, and soon enough she came up to the door as well.

Inside, she found a dozen members of Easy snacking on rations and resting. A few sat on the ground of the barn playing cards, some eating rations. They all nodded her direction as she walked in. Crossing the barn, Alice headed towards the door to the house itself. The platoon sergeants, and Talbert as First Sergeant had taken up a couple of the extra bedrooms.

Alice found Lipton and Malarkey at a table in the kitchen. They had mugs of coffee and Malarkey looked to be quite enjoying a plate of eggs. Over in the kitchen, she saw their host woman, an older lady with greying hair and a white and blue dress, cleaning up.

“Guten Tag,” Alice said, smiling. “Wie gehts? 

All three of them glanced over. The woman smiled and nodded. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Mir geht es gut, danke.”

“Ich hoffe meine Freunde stören dich nicht zu sehr?”

Both Alice and the woman glanced over at Malarkey and Lipton, and started grinning. The woman shook her head. “Nein.”

Alice nodded. Leaving the woman to her chores, she slipped into a chair at the table. They both watched her curiously. After a moment, she chuckled. “I just wanted to make sure you aren’t causing her any trouble.”

“Are we?” Lipton asked.

“No. You’re alright.” She turned back from the woman to the two of them. Pulling out the letter from her pocket, she waved it briefly in the air before putting it down. “Heard from Bill and Joe.”

They both perked up immediately. She went on to summarize the letter, leaving out only things she deemed too personal for either herself, or for the two wounded men. Both Malarkey and Lipton laughed at Bill’s assertion that the former needed to take care of his Platoon, understanding the threat for what it was.

She stayed for a while longer, enjoying a few of the scrambled eggs that the woman who owned the house brought to her. She had to admit, fresh eggs and bacon tasted like paradise after so long without anything but army food. But in the end, with the afternoon waning, she knew she had places to be. She wanted to check in with Nixon, and then with Dick. 

“Hey, Lip, you joining us for poker tonight? You missed the last couple.” She stood from her chair and pulled her jacket back on.

He laughed under his breath. “Yeah, I planned on it. Though Harry told me about the last game, and after the luck you had, I’m not sure I want to.” He turned to Malarkey. “She won over 150 bucks in a single round.”

“Jesus,” Malarkey muttered. “We never should’ve helped you get better back in training.”

Alice started laughing and shook her head. Placing a hand on Lipton’s shoulder, she smirked. “Hang tough.”

Leaving them simultaneously amused and worried at her poker skills, Alice left the farmhouse. She thanked their host first, and then wandered through the CP barn to check which enlisted had come back to rest. Not very many people had shown up. With a last smile back at the men in the barn, she headed back to town.


	28. Chapter 28

**April 12, 1945**

For almost a week nonstop, the officers had found themselves either in briefings until they were red in the face, or with absolutely nothing to do. There seemed to be no in between. The enlisted had started to go a bit stir crazy as well, some messing around enough to result in significant disciplinary action. Trouble was, once the men realized discipline included time not on the line, they’d ignored it. So Sink instituted a monetary discipline policy. Different infractions led to different fines.

As Alice picked at her food, she sat at a table in the house she’d taken over. Harry and Ron had rooms on the top level, and she on the second. Bright sunlight streamed in through the window to her right, bathing the bedroom in warmth and light. She closed her eyes. A vase with some flowers sat in the center of the circular wooden, a random assortment of tulips, daffodils, and something else she couldn’t remember the name for. Though she couldn’t see them with her closed eyes, she could smell them. Alice smiled, laying her fork down on the table.

Footsteps on the wood floor made her open her eyes again. It surprised her to find Nixon wander in, but the Vat 69 bottle in his right hand felt far too familiar. She smiled at him. “Get bored in your briefing?”

He scoffed, sitting on the edge of her bed. He took a drink from the bottle. “It’s the same every day. Nothing ever changes.”

With a deep breath, she nodded. Alice turned in her chair to face him. His expression was drawn, worn. On the one hand, it flattered her how much he was willing to let his guard down around her. Very few people got that; Harry, Dick, and herself were perhaps the only ones. More than ever she wanted to hug him, tell him it would be alright.

But Alice didn’t trust herself. And if she was to be honest with herself, she wasn’t sure Nixon could control himself either, considering he was probably intoxicated beyond what was healthy. And she would not be the one to cross the line.

“Goddamnit,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair, face towards the ground as he leaned on his knees. 

Alice squeezed her eyes shut. Her brain screamed at her. But her heart screamed louder, and she couldn’t ignore Nixon’s obvious distress, especially considering he’d helped her through Bastogne. Alice scooted her chair closer and looked at him. He still wouldn’t look up. She took a deep breath and reached for the Vat 69 in his hands.

It took a moment before he let go. But once he had, she wasted no time in placing it on the table behind her. She didn’t know what else to do. His face in his hands, she could hear him taking deep breaths. Alice frowned. This Nixon was so far from the man she’d met almost three years previous. It hurt her to look at him.

She hesitated before a smile broke her frown. “Do you… Do you remember when I beat you in a snowball fight? Because that is something I am never going to forget.” She could stop her smile from growing as she thought back on the memory. She even laughed a little. “I genuinely felt bad about pelting you in the face at the time.”

He snorted. “At the time?”

“Well, now I know you deserved it,” she teased.

With a small, sharp laugh, he shook his head in his hands. But then he laughed again. “Jesus, that was so long ago.”

“A lifetime ago,” she agreed, voice low. 

As silence fell around them again, she sighed. Alice reached out and placed a hand on his knee. “Nix, it’s going to get better. It has to.” Her voice caught before she managed to continue, fighting back tears. “You may not… you may not believe it, Nix. But you and every man in this outfit living or passed, you’re heroes to me. You’re fighting for a cause that isn’t yours. You’re fighting in a nation that isn’t yours. You’re here for me, for us, for Germany and Austria and Poland and France.” She choked on a sob, removing her hand to wipe her tears away. “God, Nix, you can’t ever understand what that means.”

He took a deep breath and finally uncovered his face. When he looked at her, he seemed a little less sad. She offered him a tiny smile, the best she could do through her own tears. Nixon nodded. The burning filled her body again; she really wanted to kiss him. 

Alice released a long breath, sitting back a bit. She couldn’t even entertain the thought, however much she wanted to. Standing away from the chair, she broke eye contact, shaking a bit. In an effort to have an excuse for bolting, she moved her plate and utensils over towards the door.

“For the record, it was Ron who won that fight.”

She spun around, hand on her hip. Alice tried to glare at him, but couldn’t stop the smile and laugh that escaped her. For a moment, she saw the old Nixon sitting on her bed. With a scoff, she shook her head. “Not true.”

“He got the last shot in,” Nixon reminded her. “You were on the ground freezing your ass off.”

“I resent that implication! I was just as crucial to our win as Ron was!”

“Right.”

Alice scoffed. “Get out, Nixon. I won’t be insulted like this.”

As he smirked and retrieved his Vat 69 bottle, Alice frowned. But she didn’t scold him for grabbing it back. With a snarky little wink, he left the room. Just as he approached the hallway, Alice following him to the door, boots pounded against the steps nearby.

“Anyone seen Cap’n Nixon or Lieutenant Klein?” they heard someone asking.

“In here!” he called.

An out of breath private skidded to a halt at the entrance to Alice’s suite. He looked pale, his hand shaking. “Sir. Telegram.” Then he looked past Nixon and noticed Alice. “Oh, ma’am. Good. Same thing.”

They both took the slips of paper. The private caught his breath before nodding to them and heading back down the stairs in a hurry. Alice and Nixon exchanged confused glances. They unfolded the telegrams.

_“TO ALL ALLIED INTELLIGENCE PERSONNEL. PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT SUFFERED CEREBRAL STROKE, PRONOUNCED DEAD AT 1535 HOURS. PRESIDENT TRUMAN HAS ASSUMED OFFICE. PLEASE STAND BY FOR FURTHER INFORMATION.”_

“Holy shit,” Nixon muttered. “Jesus Christ.”

Alice almost swayed where she stood. She had no real love for Roosevelt, but the man had been a driving force behind the war. With him dead, she only hoped the States would maintain their thrust into Germany. After a moment, she glanced at Nixon. He looked at her.

After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head. “I gotta tell Dick.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Come on.”

They both hurried down the hall to the stairwell. They took the wooden flight down with as much speed as they safely could. When they reached the outside, she saw the sun starting to sink in the sky, painting a beautiful sunset. But she hurried after Nixon as they made their way through the throngs of civilians and military personnel alike.

Battalion Headquarters was surprisingly empty. But on the edge of hearing, she could make out Dick’s voice down the hall. Nixon heard it too. Soon, he burst through the door. They found Ron and Dick standing at the far wall looking at a map of Germany. At their entrance, the two men spun around.

Nixon paused. “President’s dead.”

Neither of them spoke. Dick’s hand dropped to his side as he stared at Nixon and Alice, and Ron just looked at the floor. The heavy silence lingered even as both of them moved further into the room. Finally Dick nodded.

“Orders?” he asked.

Nixon shrugged. “Hell if I know. I assume Sink’ll call you in when there’s more.” He downed a drink of the Vat 69 bottle. With a shake of his head, he looked out the window. “He died of a fuckin’ stroke.”

“We all knew he wasn’t in the best health,” Dick pointed out. “Truman’s president then?”

“Yeah. Yeah he is.” Nixon rubbed his forehead. 

More silence. Alice watched them closely. Nixon looked on his way to being as depressed as the previous hour. In contrast, Ron barely seemed affected, but knowing him, she wasn’t surprised to see him not reacting. Dick just nodded, set his mind on the task at hand. It didn’t surprise him when he turned back to Ron. 

“Speirs, pick a night patrol.” He turned to the far side of the room. “Zielinski, finish typing up those reports and then get them to Strayer.”

Alice noticed the orderly for the first time as he confirmed his order. Confident in the orders at hand, he nodded to the other three officers. “It’s almost dinner. Get food, get some rest. I’m sure the Colonels will have more for us to do soon.”

He said get rest, but they didn’t quite obey. By 2200 hours, when most of the other men slept, Ron, Alice, Nixon, Harry, and Lipton found themselves in a huge study in the Battalion HQ. A downpour of rain pelted against the walls and windows, drowning the area outside in water and inside in noise. Harry shuffled a deck of cards. Behind Ron and Nixon, someone had lit the fireplace. 

The warmth circulated through the room. Alice sighed in contentment as she enjoyed a cigarette. Gene had insisted she cut back. One a day was difficult, but doable. While she waited for her cards, she closed her eyes.

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Harry muttered. With a flick of his wrist, he began to pass the cards. With a sigh, he added, “Five card draw, nothing wild. Ante up.”

Everyone tossed a dollar into the center. As she pulled her hand off the table one card at a time, Alice sighed internally. Another bad hand. Her luck had been nonexistent so far that night. She’d already lost a total of fifty-seven dollars, and that was after the forty dollars she’d managed to win.

“Everybody dies,” Ron said. Pulling a cigarette from his pack, he lit it and took a deep breath. “Roosevelt got to die at home, in a chair. Better than the men over here.”

Nixon snorted. “Yeah.”

His glass sat half full on the table in front of him. Beside it, the bottle. Alice opened her eyes at their comments and glanced from Ron to Nixon. She sat between Harry and Lip, the former next to Ron, and Ron next to Nixon. The same pained expression from earlier was painted all over Nixon’s face. She bit her cheek. She could see him spiraling before her eyes as he downed the rest of his glass.

“Two bucks,” Ron said. He tossed the bills into the center. “Nix?”

He didn’t even look up. Trying to get as much out of the whiskey bottle as possible, he glared down at it when it turned out to be empty. “No. I’m out.”

Lip nodded. “Right. We’ll, I’ll call your two, and raise you another two.”

Her gaze followed Nixon as he fled into the other room. She took her cigarette out of her mouth. Only when Lipton said her name did she turn back to the game. 

“No, I fold. I don’t want to lose any more money to you people,” she teased. Alice put her cards down. “You’ve taken enough from me tonight.”

Ron tried to suppress a smirk. He had won the most so far, but Lipton just chuckled and turned to Harry. The man threw six dollars in and then leaned back.

“I can’t believe we’re not gonna jump into Berlin,” he muttered.

Ron snorted. “No shit.”

“Ike’s gonna let the Russkies have it,” he added.

“I’ll tell ya’ something, Welsh. This war isn’t about fighting anymore, it’s about who gets what.” Ron shook his head. 

Nixon strode back into the room. He pulled his jacket on and pointed to the cards. “Deal me out of the next hand.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “What about your money!”

As Nixon hurried out of the room, Alice watched him. Her cheek hurt from how hard she’d been biting at it, trying to decide what to do. She frowned.

“Are we waiting on him again?” asked Harry.

Lipton nodded, shuffling the cards in his hand. “Yep.”

But Ron took the cigarette out of his mouth and shook his head. “He’s done for the night. Ten bucks on that.”

“No one’s taking that bet,” Harry said. 

“In that case, I’ll go to bed with my winnings,” Ron said, smirking. He stood from the table, gathering his cash and tossing the cards in Harry’s direction. “Same time tomorrow?”

Harry drawled, “Every night, Speirs, every night.”

Lipton and Ron both headed out of the room and down the stairs. Alice didn’t realize Harry still sat at the table because she was so deep in thought. With the rain still pounding against the building and the crackling fire, she sat in silence. Her leg shook beneath the table.

“He’s drinking too much,” Harry said a few moments later.

Alice glanced up, startled. He had moved to the other side of the table and picked up the empty bottle of Vat 69. After looking at it for a moment, he tossed it in a trashcan. Alice hummed, nodding ever so slightly.

“Something set him off, though,” Harry said, no question in his tone. “You know what it is?”

Alice nodded again. “Yeah. Yeah I do.” She hesitated. With a sigh, Alice figured he may as well know. “His jump with the 17th didn’t end well. Most of his stick went up in flames and blew up over Remagen,” she told him. “He, uh. Well he didn’t take it well.”

“Yeah.” 

Harry took his cigarette out of his mouth and stomped on it to make sure it went out. Then he slipped into another chair. He watched Alice carefully. She fiddled with her cards. 

“You’re worried about him,” Harry said.

With a small huff under her breath, she put her cards down. Alice glanced at the empty shot glass. Then she turned back to Harry. “Yeah. Yeah of course I am.”

He didn’t say anything. She missed the smirk that spread across his face. When a few more silent moments had passed, both of them collecting the cards on the table, he spoke again. “Go to bed, Alice. I’ll make sure he gets back.”

She glanced up at him. After watching him for several moments, Alice nodded. “Okay.”

With Harry ushering her out the door, Alice soon found herself under the overhang outside the Headquarters building. The rain had lessened, but walking back would still get her soaked. With a sigh, Alice pulled her jacket closer. A perfectly gloomy night to reflect her mood.


	29. Chapter 29

"Alice, get up!"

In her half-wakened state, Alice could not tell who had dared pound on her door. It echoed through from the tiny study, into her bedroom. With a groan, she refused to respond. The pounding came again. Biting her cheek, Alice pulled herself out of bed. Dressed only in her standard white tank top and dark shorts, she stumbled through her bedroom to the door. She flung it open to find Harry Welsh smoking a cigarette.

"Morning," he said. His smirk grew as she glared at him. "Come on, get your stuff. We're moving out."

Alice stood taller, letting go of the door. Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Three hundred thousand Germans surrendered. We're being deployed to the Alps, to Bavaria," he explained. "We move out in-" he checked his watch "-forty-five minutes."

"Shit," she said. Alice released a deep breath. "Right."

"Get your stuff. You, Speirs, and I have a jeep waiting," Harry told her. Turning away from her room, he headed towards his own.

She watched him for a moment before ducking away. A million thoughts raced through her head. If they were moving out, resistance in the area had to be crumbling. After weeks in Dormagen, they were moving again. She smiled to herself as she pulled on her uniform. Last of all went her helmet.

It didn't take long for her to throw the rest of her things into a pack. With her Karabiner from Bastogne in one hand and her bag in the other, Alice hurried out the door. Her boots hit the pavement with an unintentional finality. With a grin at the bright sun, she moved through the packed streets.

She found Harry talking to several of the men from Battalion HQ next to a jeep. As the sergeants wandered away, she moved to him. He nodded. "Put your stuff in. We're in the back."

Throwing her pack to the floor of the jeep, she yawned. As she stood back, the sound of a hammer and muttering German pulled her attention away. She realized that not far down the sidewalk, a man worked to board over a window. She scoffed, thinking how much trouble whoever the looter was would get in when he was caught.

"Wouldn't want to be the poor fellow who gets caught for that," Harry said, echoing her thoughts. "What do you think they stole?"

A commotion drew her and Harry's attention away. The shouting ended before she could tell what happened. With a shake of her head, Alice turned back. "That was odd."

"Yeah."

Lipton came over a moment later. He nodded to them. "I'm the driver."

"Lucky us," Harry joked. Then he tapped him on the arm before pointing back towards the main loading area. "Any idea what the shouting was?"

Lip paused. "Nixon was upset over something. I don't know what exactly."

Her smile faltered instantly. What more could have possibly happened that Nixon had to deal with? She glanced at Harry on her right and he just shrugged. But all around them, trucks and jeeps started their engines. The few tanks roared to life. Alice hauled herself into the back, Harry at her side. Just as Lipton started their engine, Ron came over and moved himself into the passenger seat.

Suddenly the voices of the enlisted rose up around them. "Gory, gory what a helluva way to die! Gory gory what a helluva way to die! Gory gory what a helluva way to die!" Everyone joined in, officers and enlisted alike. "He ain't gonna jump no more!"

Turning to Harry, she started up as well. "The days he'd lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind. He thought about the girl back home, the one he'd left behind."

The jeeps moved out. With the chorus of paratroopers serenading the German countryside, the caravan headed south. Alice couldn't help but smile as she joined them, and the other men in her jeep as well. Even Ron carried the tune between puffs of his cigarette.

"He ain't gonna jump on more!"

They ended the song just as they passed the last of the big farms. With the song over, Alice leaned forward and tapped Ron on the shoulder. When he spun around, she gestured to the jeep caravan in front of them. "Do you know what set Nixon off this morning?"

He paused. After glancing briefly at Harry, who paid close attention, clearly as curious as her, he nodded. "He got a letter from his wife. She's divorcing him."

Even Lipton turned to them for a moment, taking his eyes off the road. Neither Harry nor Alice answered him. Ron watched Alice for a moment before turning to Harry, and then back to the road ahead.

Kathy wanted a divorce. Nixon was getting divorced. He was getting divorced. A divorce.

Divorced? She didn't know what to do, to think, to say. Alice glanced left. Harry looked at her, expression unreadable. For the first time since Bastogne, all sorts of contradictory thoughts swirled through her mind. Hope, excitement, relief morphed into disgust at herself, annoyance for her own thoughts. Alice hated the fact that her gut reaction to Nixon's life getting turned upside down was joy.

Alice didn't speak at all for the rest of that day's drive. At dusk they reached a town along their route south with buildings of apartments. The men were exhausted. Patience wore thin. As they began to unload from the trucks, Alice watched in disgust as the officers had the men clear families out with no warning.

Through the commotion, Alice stayed outside. She stood in the street where a light rain drizzled in the dark around them. Screams of displaced women, the cries of children filled the air. In small groups, the Germans tumbled into the streets with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Anger filled her body, an intense warmth and tingling spreading from her chest all through her skin.

Soon enough, the whole 2nd Battalion had disappeared indoors. Alice still didn't move from her spot beneath a streetlamp, the misting rain hazy all around her in dark. With her soaked through jacket starting to make her uncomfortable, Alice chewed at her cheek. Her anger made her stubborn. Anger at the officers for their treatment of the civilians, anger at Nixon for making her angry at herself, anger at the rain, just anger.

"Alice, why are you still out here?"

She looked up from where she stood against the lamp, arms across her chest, to see Dick walking towards her. He still had his helmet on, she guessed to protect against the rain. The glare she sent him stopped him in his tracks for a moment. "What do you want, Dick?"

"Harry said he hadn't seen you since we got rooms," he said. Crossing his arms over his chest, he moved into the light of the streetlamp. He looked down at her, closer. "I don't take pleasure in kicking the civilians out-"

"Keep the explanations to yourself, Dick. If you didn't want to do it you wouldn't have," she snapped.

Dick paused. He turned from her to the building across the streets. Then he looked back. "You're right. We're at war, Alice. We do what it takes."

She huffed. "You sound like Ron."

Dick tried to suppress a small laugh. For a few moments, neither of them spoke. They stood side by side staring at the building across from them.

"How's Nix?" Alice's voice dropped low, almost afraid to voice the question. She didn't know what answer she'd want, really, other than he was ok.

With a sigh, he shook his head. "You heard what happened?"

"The letter?" When he nodded, she nodded back. "Yeah. How's he taking the news?"

"I don't think he really knows how to take it," Dick admitted. He turned to her. It took a moment, but when she looked up and over, he shot her a tiny smile. "He's conflicted. His family isn't going to take the news well. That's got him more than a little upset."

"Yeah, yeah I know," said Alice.

Dick took a deep breath. He paused. Then Dick turned to her. "He loves you though, which probably makes this a little less painful."

Hearing the words spoken aloud startled her. A jolt like electricity shot through her and she stood taller. Alice broke eye contact. For a moment, she couldn't breathe and certainly couldn't respond.

"You did know that, right?" he finally asked.

Alice held her arms closer across her chest. She still didn't have words. But with a deep breath, she turned and looked at him. "I- yeah. Yeah I guess I did." Her throat constricted as emotion overwhelmed her. "Yeah." She paused. "I… I love him too." Yes, she'd suspected. But even considering the possibility had made stuffing her own feelings down increasingly more difficult. This was something she couldn't afford.

Dick broke into a rare, genuine smile. He shook his head. At the admission, though, Alice felt herself hyperventilating. Those three words meant so much, they held a weight that other words didn't. A finality, too. She couldn't afford this!

"Come on. Go to bed. We need to leave early," Dick finally said. "Unless you plan to stand here in the rain all night?"

Alice frowned, then sighed. "No. I guess I don't."

Together they hurried across the street and up into the dark, looming apartment. Half a dozen enlisted men wandered about the bottom floor. Dick told her the officers had taken apartments on the third floor.

"You and Harry have that one," Dick told her. He pointed to a door on the left side of the hall to the left of the stairwell. "We're moving out at 0700."

"Right." Alice watched as he continued down the hall. "Dick."

"Yeah?"

"Take care of him."

Dick smirked. He nodded. "I've been doing that longer than you've been around," he reminded her with a small laugh.

She started grinning too. "Right. Sorry."

Harry had taken a bedroom on the left, so she went right. Her exhausted body ached for the bed. Her jump boots went to the wall. After shedding her soaked jacket, pants, and button down shirt, Alice paused in her room. She rolled her shoulders, eyes closed, trying to stretch her neck.

On the bed, a small, brown teddy bear sat on top of the sheets against the pillow. Alice's heart constricted at the sight. Her frown returned. Gently picking it up, she laid it on the small dresser in the room. After a quick goodnight to Harry, she climbed into bed.

It took mere minutes to drift off.

When she woke up to a knock, it felt like only mere minutes had passed since she'd fallen asleep.

Any other time, Alice would've been tempted to ignore it. But as she turned in the bed and flipped on a lamp to check her watch, it concerned her to be hearing knocking at about 0300. Alice ignored her boots in favor of walking barefoot across the wood floors to the apartment door. Harry still slept, or at least hadn't gotten up.

Flipping on a single lamp in the common room, she undid the lock. Alice wished it could've surprised her to find Nixon at the door, silver flask in his hand. He looked worn, absolutely exhausted. They watched each other for a moment. She realized he was soaking wet and she straightened up.

"Hey, Nix."

"Hey." He pushed away from the door frame. To Alice's surprise, and concern, he wobbled, staggering when he did so. She had never in her life seen him intoxicated enough to mess with his balance. He had too high a tolerance. "Ran out." Nixon shook his empty flask. "Got any?"

"You know I don't." Alice looked at him closer. His hair was plastered to his skin. With a soaked coat and pants, he dripped on the wood floor. "Nix you're soaking wet."

He snorted. "Yeah. It's raining pretty damn hard."

"Yeah." Alice couldn't help but just study him. His expression looked so pained. They stood so close it made her skin tingle. She fought the urge to think about being closer to him. He still smelled like Vat 69 and a fresh cigarette despite his wet clothes. She frowned. "Come on Nix, we should get you back to your room."

"You're kicking me out?" He moved back a bit, back out into the main hallway. The frown he shot her made Alice pause.

"Nixon, you're drunk. Way more drunk than usual." Alice hesitated. "I'm trying to get you back into bed before you catch a cold."

Nixon laughed. It sent a chill down her spine. He didn't sound amused, he sounded sad, anguished. Hearing that level of borderline despair come from what should've been a joyful noise almost scared her. His rich brown eyes bored into her. Suddenly she felt her pulse rapidly increasing. Heat flushed to her face. They both leaned a bit closer. For a brief moment, she felt selfish relief that his wife was out of the way at last.

Alice drew back. She shook her head. That gleeful thought about his wife shook her. With an unsteady deep breath, she folded her arms over her chest. This was Nixon, and even if Dick had confirmed that he had feelings for her, he had a right to grieve before she messed with his emotions any further.

"You won't kiss me?" He sounded more sad than she'd anticipated. She'd been expecting a witty, sarcastic come back, not a frown. "Alice-"

Alice cursed under her breath. God, she wanted to kiss him. She'd wanted to kiss him for years. But the smell of Vat 69 reminded her he was in no state to be making that commitment. And his emotions were haywire, too. To kiss him then would've been unfair.

"God, Nix," she hesitated. They'd reached the door to his apartment he shared with Dick. Her breath caught as she looked at him again. "When you're sober, and when you've thought this through. Then we'll talk. I promise."

He looked about ready to protest, but Alice dodged it by knocking on their door. It didn't take long before Dick opened it, looking some combination of amused, unsurprised, and sad. Alice looked at Nixon and pointed into his apartment. "Go to bed. You're going to have a helluva hang over tomorrow," she added.

"What a helluva way to die," he muttered.

Once he'd disappeared back into the apartment, Alice spared Dick a single glance. He nodded at her. She nodded at him. Wasting no more time, Alice dragged herself back down the hall and opened her door. As soon as she'd stepped inside, her body all but gave out. Tears ran down her cheeks as Alice tried to suppress her emotions. But Dick's words had opened Pandora's box. She slid down the door. Alice hugged her knees to her chest. She wanted to make him feel better, to take away his pain. But she didn't know how. She couldn't. And that, that hurt more than denying him a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consent is beautiful.


	30. Chapter 30

After each exhausting day, they all collapsed into their beds at night without speaking to really anyone. No poker, no drinking games, no chatting. Alice had barely spoken to Nixon since he'd showed up drunk at her door, not for either's fault. Part of her was glad; it gave Nixon time and space to grieve and think in peace without the added stress of whatever was between them getting in the way. She trusted Dick to keep an eye on him.

Their trek down through Germany towards Bavaria stayed relatively uneventful until they got past Stuttgart on the way to Munich. Several times during the day, the men had come across companies of the French First Army clearing the area. No one but Alice had paid much mind until they came across several groups executing German soldiers.

Alice rode with the enlisted that day, eager to stretch her legs out of the jeep she'd been in for days. She found herself between Johnny and Liebgott. Most of the ride she stayed quiet, content to listen to the men chatting all around her. But each time a gunshot went off, Alice flinched. She understood the anger of her French countrymen. But that did not mean she liked hearing the crack of the gunshot.

"It's only a fair fight for the Frogs 'cause they're unarmed!"

Alice opened her eyes. She couldn't tell you had said it, but the whole troop truck started laughing. Her eyes narrowed. She muttered, "Vous parlez de choses que vous ne comprenez pas."

Next to her, Liebgott shuffled in his seat, confused. "What'd you say?".

"I said, you're talking about something you don't understand," she snapped. "So, I'd advise you all keep your mouths shut."

At her reaction, the men around her quieted down a bit. With a scoff, Alice shifted a cigarette out of her pocket. To her surprise, Johnny handed her his lighter. She used it, nodding in thanks.

By the time night fell, they'd reached a decently large town. To the chagrin of most of 2nd Battalion, a company of the First Army occupied the area as well. The French soldiers meandered around the streets, in and out of buildings. This resulted in quite a few companies of the 506th being forced to sleep in tents along the outskirts of the city.

Once Alice had pitched her sleeping bag near Harry, she sat on the ground for a minute. The sky above was brilliantly clear. Stars gleamed down and a full moon illuminated the area. At 2200 hours, she took a walk to check on the men.

Many of them slept, but others were unaccounted for. With a roll of her eyes, Alice decided to track them down before they got in trouble for being absent. Entering the town, she walked along the cobbles. Reveling from the various buildings distracted her.

A pub across the street cast light out through the windows, spilling it out onto the street. The most noise came from there. With a small smile, Alice walked to the window and looked in. Mostly filled with Frenchmen, she listened to her language from where she stood outside. She stood there for a while.

Her smile dropped. Alice narrowed her eyes. In the corner of the bar, she found her missing paratroopers: Lieb, George, Alley, and Skinny. She cursed under her breath. Stupid men. With a groan, Alice moved to the door. She kicked herself for caring enough about them to get them out before they got reprimanded.

Alice slipped inside. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses hit her like a truck. One never would've known it was war, except of course for the fact that the German pub was filled with French officers. With her back as close to the wall as possible, Alice moved towards the four paratroopers in the opposite corner. No one paid any attention to her until she reached their table.

"You four aren't where you're supposed to be," Alice said, keeping her voice low. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Ah, come on Alice," Liebgott protested. "We needed a fuckin' break."

She shook her head. "The last thing we need is for you four to piss off the First Army and start an incident."

George snickered. He passed her a beer. "If we give you a drink will you leave us alone?"

Alice glared at him. With a shake of her head, she went to scold him. But at the same moment, the french officers started up a familiar tune. At first, only a single voice, strong and low. Several men pounded on tables with him.

"Ami, entends-tu le vol noir des corbeaux sur nos plaines?" He stood up and lifted a drink in the direction of another table of soldiers. "Ami, entends-tu les cris sourds du pays qu'on enchaîne?"

Another man grinned, standing, and raised his own glass back. His chair screeched against the wood floor as he did so. "Ohé, partisans, ouvriers et paysans, c'est l'alarme. Ce soir l'ennemi connaîtra le prix du sang et les larmes."

As the song continued, Alice couldn't tear her eyes away from the chanting soldiers. Laughter, grins, hugs, raised glass, all pointing to victory. Her heart threatened to burst from hearing the song that had given the Maquis unity, Le Chant des Partisans.

She couldn't stop herself from singing under her breath. "C'est nous qui brisons les barreaux des prisons, pour nos frères, la haine à nos trousses et la faim qui nous pousse, la misère!"

By that point, the entire pub had started singing. Voices, high and low and everywhere in between, French of different dialects, echoed through the room. "Ami, si tu tombes un ami sort de l'ombre a ta place. Demain du sang noir séchera au grand soleil sur les routes. Sifflez, compagnons, dans la nuit la Liberté, nous écoute."

When the song ended, cheers, laughter and applause replaced the melody. Alice allowed herself to revel in the moment. But after taking a deep breath, she looked back at the paratroopers. All of them watched her in amusement. Alice rolled her eyes. "Out. Now."

They didn't move. She hauled George out of his seat by his collar. "Now. I mean it. Or I'll report you to Winters myself."

They groaned, but did as she said. Skinny chugged the last of his beer before slamming it on the table and hurrying out behind the others. When the door closed behind them, she pointed down the road towards the edge of town.

"So, what was that song?" George asked, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. He turned to her and offered his pack.

Alice hesitated, staring at the smokes. She'd agreed to only smoke two a day, at Gene's request. He'd wanted one, but she'd bargained for a second. And she'd already had two. "No thanks," she muttered. "That was Le Chant des Partisans. It was like an anthem for us, the Free French, and the Maquis, and really anyone who fought the Occupation."

"You got all…" George trailed off, turning to her. He smirked around his cigarette. Wiggling his finger at her face, he found the right word. "Patriotic! It was kinda funny."

Liebgott, Alley, and Skinny all cracked up. She huffed. With a roll of her eyes, Alice pushed George forward. "Just walk."

George just continued laughing. When they reached the enlisted's bunking area, she left them to their snickering and gossip. George sent her a smirk as she walked away. It was approaching 2330 hours and all the energy had drained from her body. With tremendous tight aching in her neck and shoulders, she moved through the tents towards the one with Harry.

It surprised her when she found it empty. Alice wasted no time in sinking to the ground, groaning. As she pulled off her coat and balled it up as a pillow, she heard footsteps outside. It didn't stop her from laying down though. When Harry walked in, he glanced down at her while taking a drink from his canteen.

"Wondered where you went," he said. "I went to check Dick's tent."

Nixon's tent. His comment made her sit up immediately. After a moment, she nodded. "How is he?"

"Nix?" He sank down into his own bedroll. After another drink, he flashed her a smile. "Take a guess."

Her expression fell. "Honestly, Harry, I have no idea. He didn't love Kathy, but she wasn't a terrible person. And you know how obligated he felt to keep the family happy. Being divorced by her isn't going to look good to the Nixons."

He nodded. "True." With a brief hesitation, he passed her his canteen. "The last of my whiskey."

"Thanks." Alice took a long drink, finishing it up. Then she passed it back.

"He's been thoroughly drunk pretty much since he got the letter," Harry continued. "She's apparently taking the house and dog."

"She's taking Sammy?" Alice frowned. "She doesn't even like him."

Harry broke into a grin and started laughing. When she asked him about it, he shook his head. "You sound just like him."

Alice blushed a bit, ducking away. It just made him snicker further. With the angriest glare she could muster, Alice faced him. "Stop laughing."

"Damnit, Alice. You should be happy!" He laughed again.

But she just shook her head. "God… Harry. Yes. But how can I be happy when Nixon is hurting over this! Besides, we're in the middle of a war."

"The war is going to end eventually," he pointed out. "Probably sooner rather than later. I think we're gonna be on occupation duty from now on."

Occupation duty. End of the war. So many implications were tied to those two scenarios. When the war ended, she'd have to decide what to do with her life. She thought about Paris, but somehow the prospect of returning to the place where her family had died made her throat clench. But she knew she couldn't return to Hamburg. Besides the fact that post war Germany would probably be a nightmare given what had happened in the Great War, too much guilt lay with the thought of her birthplace. Ever since Operation Gomorrah, she'd known she'd never return there. She couldn't.

The past four years of her life had been dominated by two things: fight the Nazis, and survive. Everything else had fallen to the side. Alice didn't even know what she would do with herself. She'd spent four years shooting guns, crawling through mud, digging foxholes. When the war ended, she'd have to pick up her old life.

"Guarnere'd have a field day with you right now," Harry said, snickering.

"God, I miss him," she muttered. Alice looked up. She hadn't meant to admit it out loud.

Harry flashed her a genuine smile, not a smirk. He nodded. "It's a lot quieter around here, that's for sure."

Thoughts of Skip, Alex, and Hoobler filled her mind too. They had been a huge help with morale, too. Closing her eyes, she forced down her emotions. A lump formed in her throat. When she opened her eyes, she cracked her neck and then laid back down. "How far are we getting tomorrow?"

"Dick said we're finally getting to Landsberg tomorrow. Should pull in by noon."

Alice yawned. In the dark she just nodded to him. Landsberg am Lech was their initial stop in Bavaria. With instructions to stay there until further notice, the 2nd Battalion hoped to return to permanent beds and showers like Sturzelberg. Alice didn't want to get her hopes up. But with the tiniest hint of a smile on her face, she closed her eyes. Maybe they'd get showers. Maybe.


	31. Chapter 31

Alice could not stop yawning as the jeep bounced into the town. They had dirt roads, not paved or cobbled. Next to her, Harry started snickering. She scoffed. “Shut up.”

“About what?” he added. Then he smirked.

“Get the smirk off your face.” 

Harry started laughing again. Even Lipton, sitting in the front of the jeep on the passenger side, tried and failed to stifle his own laughter. Another yawn escaped her.

“Don’t mock me for being tired!” she whined when Harry snickered again. “You’re both children.”

The jeeps and trucks rolled through the quiet town, the ones carrying officers coming to a halt in the city center. It was nearly 1400 hours, two hours past what they’d hoped to arrive at. But they had finally arrived, and Alice relished the ability to walk around free instead of squished into a vehicle. As she jumped out, she yawned again and stretched. 

“I wanna send out some patrols,” Dick told them. With him, Ron joined for orders as well. Dick turned directly to Harry. “I want Dog here in the village, Easy and Fox in the woods.”

“Easy Company will take the northwest. Lieutenant Lipton,” Ron turned to the man on his right, “Have First and Second Platoon swing up through the woods, have Third swing around.”

Just like that, the officers split. Alice followed Dick to Nixon. She noticed he looked distinctly hungover, but not drunk. Her heart lifted a bit. Maybe he’d improved. When he and Dick stopped talking, she joined them.

“You look like you drank a little too much, Nix,” Alice commented. She flashed him a small smile.

He scoffed under his breath. “Yeah. Yeah I think I did.”

“Thought you weren’t drinking local stuff,” she added.

Again, he laughed. It sounded bitter, but not hopeless. Alice decided that was an improvement. Dick had moved away, leaving the two of them standing in the corner of the city center. On every side, the enlisted men scurried about to report to their platoon leaders. The German citizens didn’t seem to be objecting to their presence either, instead just watching them curiously. 

“Are you feeling better?” She kept her voice low, not looking at him. Instead she watched the organized chaos all around them. 

He let out a deep breath. “I could do with some more Vat 69.”

“Nix.” Alice sighed and looked at him. “Please don’t drink yourself to death.”

“Why? You care?” he joked.

Alice folded her arms over her chest. She spun on him. “Of course I care.”

He didn’t respond at first. His rueful smirk dropped and he just looked at her. Neither broke eye contact. After what felt like an eternity, he finally looked away, focusing on the ground. 

“Goddamnit,” she muttered. “Nix, we need to talk. I promised when you were sober, we’d talk.”

He nodded, still looking away. The tiniest smirk grew until he turned to her. “Just talk?”

Alice grinned, laughing, and looked away. “That’s something we need to talk about first.”

Peacock’s voice floated over from the far end of the square. “Captain Nixon, sir, Major Winters wants you.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Nixon muttered.

Alice smirked. “Oh yeah, which one?”

He snorted but didn’t answer. With a last glance her way and another rueful smirk, he wandered in the direction of Peacock and Dick. Alice watched him go with a tiny smile. When he disappeared from sight, she turned away.

It didn’t take long for her to find work for her to do. She helped some of Dog’s men communicate with the locals, clearing houses for themselves and the officers. Once that had finished, she wandered back into the streets. She smiled when she saw Talbert and two replacements throwing a baseball around. Making her way towards them, she stopped behind Liebgott, Johnny, Babe, and Skinny.

“What the fuck’s his problem?” Liebgott said, chuckling. “You’d think the goddamn Krauts were after him or something.”

“Who’s problem?”

They all turned to her when she spoke up. Babe, chewing gum, gave her a small salute. She laughed and shook her head.

Johnny pointed down the road. “Frank.”

She followed his gesture. It took a bit of searching, but she finally saw Frank dodging between members of Easy. She narrowed her eyes. “He say anything?”

“Just wanted an officer,” Babe told her.

Alice looked back down the road. Frank had found an officer; Dick stood in front of him, face drawn in confusion. It didn’t take long for him to act on whatever information Frank had brought him.

“Listen up!” He called the men around him. “First Sergeant Talbert,” he said, “find Speirs. I want Easy in troop trucks, officers in jeeps in ten minutes!”

“Sir!” Talbert nodded. “Sergeant Grant, Sergeant Martin!”

It took only split seconds for the enlisted to jump into action. Ordered chaos filled the area. Alice waded through the gathering men, pushing past them as they ran to and fro. When she came to Dick, Harry and Lipton had joined him. He nodded. 

“Lip, Harry, Alice, three of you in one jeep. I’ll go with Frank, Speirs, and Nixon.” Dick took a deep breath. “Frank didn’t have much information. Said it looked like some sort of prison.”

Once the men had mustered, they were ordered into trucks. A heavy cloud of apprehension filled the area, like a weight on everyone’s chests. Frank hadn’t had answers, sticking close to Dick and Nixon. The directions he gave them led them a short distance north, around and through part of the forest. Soon, cut down trees lined the road, and then in front of them rose an odd structure.

Made mainly of wood and barbed wire, a walled fence stretched as far as they could see. The Jeep stopped. A strange stench wafted their way. Alice had smelled something similar only once, when she'd had to hide in a ditch with a rotting deer carcass. The same stench of death hung heavily in the air now. She choked back bile.

Alice jumped from the Jeep. Around her, men from the trucks crowded the area. She couldn't see much. A pit formed in her stomach as the stench grew. The men around her began to cough. Alice pushed her way through. Dread filled her.

When she broke apart from the men, she stopped. The barbed wire wall towered over her. Beyond it, beyond a second barbed wire fence, people huddled together. Pallid skin stretched over gaunt faces. Striped pajama-like uniforms had numbers over their chests. They were all men though they more closely resembled corpses. But she only had eyes for a patch over many of the men's hearts. A bright yellow star of David, sewn to the striped uniforms, starkly contrasted the dull colors elsewhere.

Her throat dried. Alice swayed. Her hands went to the barbed fence. The wire cut into her palms. But she didn't care. It hit her like a bullet. It made sense. All of it. Everything. The rumors out of Poland, the desperate pleas of Jews, the letters from Elsa, the rumors, the words she had first heard years before in the Maquis. 

Endlösung der Judenfrage.

Bile rose in her throat. Alice willed it down. The eyes of the men beyond the cage stared back at her. They watched her every move. 

Alice didn't register the commotion to her right. She didn't register Dick opening the gates. She didn't register anything but the agony on the gaunt faces beyond the prison wire, their bodies, sickly, drained of life.

She couldn't look away. Smoke rose in the distance, black against the pale, clouded sky. Death's stench filled her nose. 

This was what had happened to her people. This was what the Nazis had done to them. Endlösung der Judenfrage. This was the Final Solution to the Jewish Question.

Was this what had happened to Elsa? To Tomas and James, to her aunt and uncle? Is this what had happened to her friends, her neighbors? Another gut punch hit her. She saw, but couldn’t comprehend.

Her knees buckled. Alice let herself fall to the ground against the barbed wire. Her knees dug into the muddy ground. Her chest hurt. It felt like a thousand pounds of bricks had been laid atop it. She didn't think she'd be able to look past the sallow skin and bulging eyes of the men who looked more like starved animals. But they weren't animals. These were human beings, these were neighbors, husbands, children, brothers, sons. They were people. People. Her people!

Her body trembled. The camp began to empty of its victims. But Alice could not pull herself away. This was Germany’s legacy. Her country had done this. How could they have done this? 

She stayed where she was for what felt like an eternity. Inside the camp, her men comforted the victims and explored the rotting buildings. Alice couldn't move. She couldn’t think.

Endlösung der Judenfrage.

A hand weighed on her shoulder. Alice still couldn't pull herself away. Her breathing came unsteadily. Her heart pounded. The hand on her shoulder still didn't move.

"Alice."

At Lipton's voice, Alice took an unsteady breath. For a few more moments, she watched as inside the camp, her men mingled with the prisoners. Slowly, she turned and looked at Lipton. He'd crouched just behind her. His brown eyes watched her carefully. Words didn't form as she opened her mouth. He stood up.

"Come on."

Glancing back at the camp, she couldn't think clearly. Her mind felt cloudy. But Lipton grabbed her hand. She allowed herself to be pulled up from the ground. He led her away from the fence. A swarm of people, both soldiers and prisoners, had formed near the trucks. Lipton kept one hand on her the whole time. A haze settled over her mind.

Alice found herself standing with the other officers. She couldn’t recall how she got there. Standing silent, her heart raced. She turned away from them, back towards the camp, unblinking as her tears fell. She didn't hear them talking, didn't notice them watching her carefully. The cacophony of pleas and sobs and orders droned on. Her throat constricted. Her chest pains only increased.

"Alice?"

This time it was Dick who said her name. She turned back to them, eyes wide. Her lips parted. Then she shut them. She looked away again. Endlösung der Judenfrage. The faces of her friends in Hamburg beyond barbed wire, pale, greying skin stretched over aching bones, eyes seemingly close to popping out because of malnutrition filled her mind. Lips thin, drawn, cracked and bleeding. Hair grey and wirey, withering away beneath a cap of fraying cloth. Each with a Star of David, a symbol of hope and love, sewn in mockery to their uniforms of death. That would be her country’s legacy.

"Alice." 

She turned back to them. They all looked at her in concern. With a deep breath, Alice shuddered. She covered her mouth for a moment, attempting to find some semblance of control. But even as she spoke, her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. "Endlösung der Judenfrage."

Dick almost seemed to relax as she spoke. "What?"

Nixon, face drawn, repeated the German phrase and translated. "The Final Solution to the Jewish Question. It's something intelligence has been hearing since day one. But no one knows what exactly it means.”

"This," she murmured. Alice covered her mouth again to stifle her silent sobs. She closed her eyes and willed it away. "This is their final solution." She turned away again, and took a few steps back towards the compound. This was their solution. To lock her and others away to die alone and afraid, worked to the point of exhaustion, abandoned by the rest of the world. Forgotten.

She watched the smoke rising in the sky. The stench of death filled the air around her. She had managed to block it out for a bit, but it rushed back in. She stifled a gag. A battle raged in her between sudden, complete and absolute hatred for the German blood in her veins, and a total, abject despair for the friends she'd left behind in Hamburg. Not all Germans were evil, she'd said on more than one occasion. Germans weren't the enemy, the Nazis were.

Her body trembled. The Nazis were German though. How could anyone allow the extermination of a people to happen right inside their country, to their friends and neighbors? They’d abandoned them, her, the Jews and whoever else had been sent to these work camps. Work camps? Slaughter houses.

"Alice," Dick called.

She turned around. The other officers still stood in a half circle behind the trucks. She moved back over. All of them studied her. None of them spoke.

Dick glanced from her, to the other four officers, and then to the crowd of prisoners who swarmed the area. He hesitated. With a small shake of his head, he turned back. “Alice I want you to go back to town with Harry and Lipton.” Dick turned to the two of them. “We need water, food, anything to help them. Take a few squads, gather what you can, and report back here within the hour.” With a nod at them, he pulled Speirs and Nixon with him towards a radio.

Harry nodded. After looking back over the area, he turned to Lipton and Alice. “Lipton, grab two dozen men, whoever you can find.” As the man nodded and moved away, he added, “Get Webster, so we have a translator. Alice?"

Alice glanced at Harry when he said her name. Her mind tried to focus. He watched her closely, and she just shook her head. Placing a hand behind her shoulder, he guided her towards a jeep. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”


	32. Chapter 32

The look on the faces of the men, both the soldiers and the victims, when he ordered the prisoners back into the camp would never leave Dick’s mind. He knew it had been necessary. It would keep them safe. They’d be helped.

He knew he’d have to thank Harry and Lipton for convincing Alice to stay behind in Landsberg. Watching Liebgott crumble before his eyes, something he’d never anticipated, had been hard enough. Nixon had voiced the same thoughts on the way back to the town. At least, he had until they’d both fallen into silence.

With every click of the typewriter, Dick typed up his report. Though the words formed on the page, he couldn’t help but think about how inadequate the paragraphs were. They couldn’t capture the scene that had greeted them in Kaufering. And from what he’d heard from the other Battalions, the scene that had greeted them at the women’s camp.

Dick sighed as the typewriter dinged for the last time. He pulled the paper out of the machine and glanced down at it. Insufficient to describe the sheer evil they’d encountered. But it would have to do. 

He got up from the circle table in the study and back into his bedroom. Laying the three page report on the dresser, he took off his jacket and lay it on the chair of the desk. Dick closed his eyes as he stood in the center of the room.

Footsteps in the hall forced him to pay attention again. Dick moved to the foyer. It didn’t surprise him to find Doc Roe walking towards him. “Doc,” he said. “Report.”

“Just finished speakin’ with the medics from 3rd Battalion,” said Gene. He walked over to Dick and offered him a cup of coffee. “Figured you might need this, sir.”

Dick flashed him a small smile. “Thanks.” He took it. “Have you checked on Alice?”

Gene nodded. “Yes, sir. She’s asleep, which is prob’ly good. I checked on Liebgott as well. He’s doin’ better. I made everyone aware to watch for feelin’ ill. Who knows what the prisoners were sick with, sir. Could’a all been exposed.”

“Right, right. Good.” With another deep breath, Dick nodded more to himself than to Gene. “Report any signs of sickness to me immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Dick watched Gene leave. The medic didn’t say anything else, just nodded and turned away. Dick didn’t miss the sag of his shoulders. With a sigh, he went back into the bedroom. The coffee tasted good; trust him to know what absolutely everyone needed at any one time.

Sitting down at his desk, Dick worked on taking a few deep breaths. He took a moment to jot down a few goals for the next few days, things he didn’t want to forget. But before long, more footsteps made him turn in his chair. Nixon, looking worse for wear, strode inside.

“Turns out, I’m staying in the only dry frickin’ house in Germany,” he muttered. 

With a tiny scoff, Dick shook his head. “I thought you weren’t drinking the local.” He watched as Nixon looked through several different bottles of alcohol. 

“Yeah, well.”

At his bitter smile and pour of a drink, Dick bit his cheek. Nixon had been doing better for several days, drinking a little less. Dick had a feeling he’d started seeing the positives of Kathy’s divorce. As much as Dick had warned Nix time and time again about the problems with letting himself fall for Alice not only as a married man, but as officers in the Army, recently he’d wondered if they needed each other more than he or any of them realized.

Now, though. Now, Dick worried that Alice had experienced one too many heartbreaks. And Nixon, well Nixon seemed about as lost at what to do as he did. He sighed. “Heard from Division. They’ve been finding camps like this all over the place.”

“Jesus.”

“Seems the Russians liberated one a lot worse,” he added.

Nixon stared at him. “Worse?”

“Yeah.” Dick nodded. He’d been just as disbelieving when he’d heard about it. “Apparently. Ten times as big. Execution chambers. Ovens.” At Nixon’s shock, he tried to explain, “for cremating all the bodies.”

“Jesus.” Nixon shook his head. He raised the liquor bottle but paused before he downed a drink. “The locals claim that they never even knew the camp existed. They say we’re exaggerating.”

Dick couldn’t stop himself from letting out a bitter laugh. “Well, they’re gonna have a hell of an education tomorrow. General Taylor declared martial law about an hour ago. Ordered every able-body German in town aged fourteen to eighty to start burying the bodies and that’ll begin in the morning.” He paused. “10th Armored are gonna supervise cleanup.”

“What about us?” Nixon asked.

“We head out for Thalem tomorrow. 1200 hours,” said Dick.

Nixon’s shoulders dropped as he looked away. With a tiny shake of his head, he downed a quick drink. Then he turned back. “Have you talked to her since…”

“No,” Dick admitted. “No, but Doc was in here. Said she’s asleep.”

He nodded. Then he took another drink. “Right.”

Dick watched him closely. He sighed. Standing up, Dick moved himself so he sat against a table at the end of his bed. He folded his arms over his chest. “Nix, getting drunk isn’t going to help her or anyone in this company.”

“I know, Dick,” he snapped. 

Dick checked his watch. Almost 2000 hours. He frowned. “Any idea where Harry and Speirs are?”

“Not off the top of my head,” he said. “Why?”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Dick pushed away from the table and walked towards the door. When he got to the doorway, he turned. “Don’t get drunk before I get back, Nix.”

The man sighed but nodded. Leaving Nixon in the first floor bedroom, he moved through the mansion-like house until he set foot outdoors. A gentle breeze moved through the town, but the fresh air still couldn’t erase the stench of death that Dick had experienced at the camp. He frowned at the memory. 

Enlisted move through the street, less than in daylight but enough to be of use. He spotted the person he was looking for. “First Sergeant Talbert!”

The man looked up from where he’d been chatting with Sergeant Grant. Talbert pushed off the fence and walked over. “Sir?”

Dick nodded to him. “I need you to track down Lieutenant Welsh and Captain Speirs for me. Send them into HQ. Grant?”

The other sergeant moved over to him quickly. “Yes sir?”

“Find me Sergeant Luz. Send him to HQ as well.”

With both of them heading off to do as asked, Dick stood in the center of town. He looked around at the calm that had descended back on Landsberg. Besides the soldiers walking in pairs, enforcing the martial law that Taylor had put into effect, it seemed almost peaceful. Unsettling, really.

He hadn’t realized he’d been standing there for awhile until he saw Harry making his way over. He had a cigarette in his mouth. When he caught sight of Dick, he nodded.

“What’s up?” Harry asked.

Dick bit his cheek, looking around. Then he turned back to him. “I’ll explain in a minute. Come on.”

They headed back inside the Battalion Headquarters. Harry didn’t pester him for more information and before long, they rejoined Nixon in one of the living rooms in the mansion. It relieved Dick that Nixon didn’t have any alcohol with him, just a lit cigarette. He sat on one of the red velvet couches and it didn’t take long for Harry to plop down next to him.

Dick nodded. He leaned against a wall nearby, arms across his chest. Moments later they heard boots on the wooden floor and Ron came around the corner. He looked from Dick to the others and nodded. He took a chair opposite the couch.

After a few tense moments, he looked at them. “We need to talk about Alice. All cards on the table.”

Just as he finished, another set of footsteps filled the hall outside. Harry, Ron, and Nixon looked over in confusion. In the doorway stepped George Luz, but he paused in surprise at the gathering of officers.

“Sir, Grant said you needed me,” he said. He tore his eyes away from the three on the chairs and turned to Dick. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” Dick told him. With a nod of his head, he had George come in. When he had done so, Dick closed the door. Folding his arms over his chest, he looked around. “This discussion is off the record. I’m concerned about Alice. George-” the man looked over, so Dick continued- “you’re the closest to her in the enlisted. I want you in on this.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Ron looked sharply at Dick. “In on what?”

“Keeping an eye on her. We need to watch her for odd behavior, anything that would warrant taking her off the line. My goal is to nip it in the bud before that point is reached,” he explained. 

“Jesus Christ, Dick, off the line?” Nixon asked.

“Only if there’s no other options,” he assured them. “For her safety.”

“Off the line to where, exactly, sir?” George asked. 

Dick looked at him, surprised at the sharp edge to his tone. But when George looked away, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, he nodded. “Your point?” When George hesitated, he sighed. “I wouldn’t have brought you in here if I didn’t want your opinion.”

“She gets pulled off the line, then what happens?” George pointed out. “She’s lost basically everybody. Her family is Easy Company now, and if you pull her off the line, she loses that too.”

“He’s right, Dick,” Nixon added. “You can’t pull her off.”

Dick didn’t miss the glance and nod shared between George and Nixon. For a moment he dreaded if those two would ever team up against him over something about Alice. But he shook himself and sighed. “Obviously we want to avoid it. Harry, Speirs, thoughts?”

Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. After taking out his cigarette, he nodded. “I agree.”

“As long as she isn’t a danger to herself or this company, there’s no reason to pull her off,” Ron added.

“And if you pull her off the line, where does she go?” Nixon pointed out. “France? England? She doesn’t have family to go home to, Dick.”

Dick nodded. “I hear your points. And I agree. So, that brings us back to the first point. We need to get an eye on her. All of us.” 

He let his gaze travel between the gathered men. With a nod, he considered his options. Someone needed to stay with Alice, and though he knew Nixon would usually be the first to volunteer, he also knew Nix was in no state himself. He turned back to George.

“George. Once Alice wakes up, I want you to stick by her until I tell you otherwise. Treat this like the Samaria,” he explained. 

George nodded. “Yes, sir.”

A knock at the door pulled everyone’s attention away. Dick stood off the chair he’d been leaning against and called him to enter. Doc Roe opened the door and stepped inside. He looked as surprised as George had when he first entered the room.

“Sirs,” he started. “Uh, Major, Lieutenant Klein’s awake.”

“Right. Luz,” he said.

George nodded. He turned from the officers to Gene and back to Dick. When Dick gave him a nod, he turned and left the room with Gene. They left the officers behind. George yawned as he walked next to the medic, neither speaking. As they stepped into the night air of Landsberg, George pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

“Doc?” he offered.

Gene released a deep breath and nodded. He took one and lit it. “Thanks.” He took a deep breath of it before nodding to George. “She’s taking a shower. I left her there, told her I had to report to the Major Winters.”

“She alright?” asked George.

He didn’t respond, just turned to look at him. George knew that look. The look was said everything; Gene didn’t know, and to ask was stupid. He shrugged and looked away. 

The place Alice had been house stood three doors down from the HQ. George nodded to one of the radio ops from Dog who stood with a guard. When they finally reached the front door, George was only a bit surprised to find Malarkey heading their way. 

George turned to Gene. “Hey, Doc, go get some sleep. I’ll watch her.”

After brief hesitation, Gene nodded and turned away. While waiting for Malarkey, George watched the medic walk down the lane and out of sight. Each puff the second cigarette he’d lit helped him stay calm. Shuffling in place, he took a deep breath.

“She awake?” Malarkey asked, walking up. He pointed to the door. “I was gonna check in on her.”

George yawned. With a nod, he finished up his smoking and stomped it out. “Doc said she’s up. I haven’t seen her since we found that… hell.”

“Yeah.”

“Guess we should go in,” George muttered.

Malarkey paused. “Yeah.”

George didn’t know why he felt so concerned over what they’d find inside. He supposed he just felt tired. He’d spent all day caring for men who had been brutally treated, abandoned by society, and it had drained him in a way he had never experienced. And for once in his life, George didn’t know how to help, didn’t see a way to make it better. He realized he was worried he couldn’t help Alice. The talk of potentially taking Alice off the line had made it even worse.

After another deep breath, he went to the door and opened it. He didn’t bother knocking. It swung open easily. The hallway opened to a stair of dark wood on the right, and on the left, a living room. The only light they saw came from further down the hallway. With a glance at Malarkey, he followed the lightsource.

Photographs of a family with three young boys lined the walls to either side as they headed back into the large house. The boys in the photos aged the further back they walked until the last few photos had them all in German uniforms. They stepped into the back of the house, a living room to the right and a kitchen to the left. Alice sat on a couch, a mug in hands, a fireplace roaring. She’d shed her uniform except for her tank top. In the light of the fireplace and the lamps, George could see nearly every scar she’d acquired; the bullet wound from Holland stuck out particularly vivid. Her hair, scraggly and wet, had dampened the parts of her shirt that it touched.

She turned towards them when they walked in. The smile she flashed them fooled no one: not George, not Malark, and not she herself. But she nodded. “Get bored hanging with the others?” she joked.

George scoffed. “Yeah, well, Tab was being a pain in the ass. Figured I’d escape here.”

“Right,” she said. “Well, there’s tea over there if either of you want it. Since I assume you’re staying here for the night?”

“Your place is certainly nicer than ours,” Malarkey said, smirking. He wandered away to the kitchen. “George, you want tea?”

“Jesus, Malark, is that even a question,” George shouted back.

“So, no?”

George rolled his eyes and shouted back, “It’s a yes, yah idiot!”

Alice chuckled as George turned back to her and shook his head. With his own little smirk, George plopped down on the other end of her couch. It didn’t take long for Malarkey to come back in carrying two china tea cups. He handed one to George before settling down in a chair nearby.

“How’s Lieb,” Alice asked, voice low. She pulled her feet up to sit criss-cross on the cough, angling herself towards the other two. “I heard what they made him do.”

“He’s okay,” Malarkey assured her. After a pause, he continued, “Angry. Really angry.”

Alice nodded. She bit her lip, not responding. Her eyes closed more out of instinct than anything else, her chest suddenly hurting as she thought about what she’d witnessed. When she opened them, it didn’t surprise her to see both men had their full attention on her.

“I’m fine,” she assured them. “At least, as fine as can be expected,” she muttered. Then she looked to them. “How are you two? You actually went in, and, and uh, saw them.”

Neither of them spoke. She watched as they both clammed up, looking at the ground or their tea cups with all the intensity they could muster. Somehow their non answer hurt more than anything she thought she’d hear from them.

Alice stared into the fireplace. A hot amalgamation of fear, anger, and despair swirled inside her chest, her heart. She felt more sad than anything else: sad for the victims, sad for herself, sad for all the people Germany had hurt. 

As tears welled in her eyes, Alice squeezed them shut. Her throat stung from suppressed emotions. One thought dominated all the others. This could’ve been Elsa’s fate. But she would never know, never have answers.

As her chest continued to burn in repressed agony, she opened her eyes. Alice watched the fire again. Impulse took over. Setting the teacup on the table to her left, Alice instead grabbed a stack of letters that had sat there. Elsa’s letters.

“What are you doing?” Malarkey asked, voice low. “Alice. That’s all you’ve got left!”

She took a deep breath through her nose. Turning to Malarkey, she bit her cheek. “I don’t want it.”

“What are they?” George asked.

Alice wiped a few tears off her cheeks. “Letters. From uh, a cousin of mine. Elsa.”

“Alice, if you burn those, you can’t get them back,” argued Malarkey. “They’re gone.”

Her breath caught. She looked from him, to George, to the letters. But as she remembered what they’d said, the terror that Elsa had experienced, the anger she’d harbored, the questions she’d asked, she felt like they burned her hand. She wanted nothing to do with them. All they did was bring pain. 

“That’s the last of your family,” Malarkey reminded her. 

Alice let out a small laugh through her tears.. She shook her head. “No. That’s the last of Adélaïde’s family.”

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed them into the flames. Neither of the men behind her spoke. Her full attention remained on the letters, white turning brown and black as the flames scorched through them. She knew burning the letters wouldn’t change reality. But burning the letters felt like the only tangible thing she could control.


	33. Chapter 33

**April 27th, 1945**

_Road to the Alps, Bavaria, Germany_

* * *

"Anyone seen Alice?"

Dick walked into the central room of the house the officers had commandeered for the night. Lipton, Ron, Harry, and Nix sat at a round mahogany table, drinking and playing cards. Smoke filled the room from their cigarettes. Thanks to the massive size of the mansion they’d taken over, the five officers had gotten rooms in the same house. This meant longer poker games.

After spending a travel day to herself, Alice had rejoined the other officers for their nightly recreation. The familiarity of the card games seemed to help her, and her presence seemed to help everyone, Alice and the others. None of them figured they’d ever forget the shocking horror of the Kaufering labor camp, but they had tried to move past it. Instead, they let it remind them of why exactly they sat in a commandeered house in the middle of Nazi Germany.

"She mentioned showering,” Ron told him.

Nixon, putting down his glass of whiskey, looked at Dick and stiffened. "Something's wrong?" He knew Dick well enough to be concerned.

The whole group stopped at his tone. As Harry paused mid shuffle, the room fell eerily silent. When Dick didn’t correct Nixon, they straightened in their chairs. Ron even took the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Back in Toccoa, you remember when she got the letter about her family?"

Lipton, Ron, and Nixon all nodded. Near the end of July, the letter had come from her Maquis cell about her family’s disappearance and presumed death. The enlisted had been more involved with her when she’d reacted, though Nixon still remembered the solid punch to the face he’d gotten when he’d pestered her in training. Harry had heard about it through the grapevine, as he hadn't been with the company. Again, Dick paused.

Nixon prodded him. "What?"

Dick sighed. He patted the back of a chair at the empty chair being reserved for Alice. “I just got off the phone with Sink.” Another brief pause, and then he continued. “That camp I mentioned the Russians liberated? Ten times bigger than Landsberg?"

When they all nodded, he sighed. “Apparently it was called Auschwitz. It was more of a death camp, apparently, to eradicate the unwanted people living in the Reich. In July of 1942, there was a, an operation in Paris. Apparently the police called it Opération Vent Printanier, but the Allies are calling it the Vel' d'Hiv' Roundup.” Dick felt his breath catch for a moment. “Over 13,000 Jews in Paris were rounded up and sent to Auschwitz. Her family among them.”

No one spoke. The only sound in the whole room came from their breathing and the gentle, constant tick of the grandfather clock. Dick nodded. “Her parents were killed on arrival. Her sister was in the camp for two years, until this December.”

Nixon took out his cigarette. "Jesus Christ.”

“You’re positive?” Harry asked.

Dick nodded. He shook his head, staring at the floor. Then he looked around. “Alice’s name and job is well known to the brass. When they got a hold of some of the Soviet’s intel, they found her family in the mix. Wilhelm Klein, Hélène Klein.” After a pause, he finished. “Bernadette Klein.”

“Jesus,” muttered Nixon.

Harry shook his head, downing his own drink. Then he turned to Dick. “She’s not gonna take this well, Dick.”

The man took a deep breath. He chewed at his lip. But they couldn’t keep this sort of information from her. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t their place. He sighed. "I know. But she deserves to know. She needs to know.”

"What do I need to know?"

They all turned to find Alice standing in the door. She leaned against the doorframe. Her hair was wet, and she'd changed into a tank top and paratroopers pants, with her jacket hanging on her arm. She flashed them a small, worn smile. "It's not nice to start poker before I get here." Alice wrung her hair out a bit more. "Scared I'll take all your money?"

None of them spoke. The men all turned to Dick. He stood silently, taking a deep breath. All humor had evaporated from the room in a matter of seconds.

"Right, I know I'm not that funny, but usually I get some sort of reaction," Alice muttered. She stood up taller. Her heart began to beat a little faster. "What do I need to know?"

Dick looked at her. "Alice, sit down."

"I'm all right here, thank you."

"Alice-"

"What do I need to know?" Her smile disappeared. Crossing her arms, she looked at them all and then turned back to Dick.

"We got word from Colonel Sink." Dick paused. He glanced at Nixon. But the man shrugged, at a complete loss, and Dick continued. "He had some news."

"About what?"

"Your family."

Alice stood up, away from against the door frame. Dread filled her body. Not many of them knew about Elsa and the rest of her father’s side of the family, but maybe they’d gotten word about what happened to them. The way the other men had all gone completely still, watching her, caused her to pause. "What about them?"

After a few moments of hesitation, Dick started to explain the Vel d'Hiv operation, and how in July of 1942, thousands of Jews in Paris had been rounded up and shipped to Germany. He explained Auschwitz, a work and extermination camp worse than Kaufering. Dick paused, dreading the end of what he had to say. "When Intelligence looked through some of the files, they found your family recorded in Auschwitz's records. Your parents died there in 1942."

She stared at him, unblinking. Alice didn’t know what to think. "Bernadette?"

"She died this past December."

The entire room paused. A million thoughts crashed through her brain all at once. Alice didn't know what to do. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. Her chest constricted, her lungs heaving as she held her breath. How? Why?

It had to be some sort of sick joke. Finally she spoke up. "You're wrong. They died in Paris, with Robert."

"Alice-"

"You’re wrong."

Dick closed his eyes for a moment. Then he just looked at her. "Sink is trying to get a hold of the hard copies of the records."

Alice felt herself hyperventilating. Lipton, Ron, Harry, and Nixon all watched her as carefully as Dick. She bit her cheek so hard that the taste of blood filled her mouth, an iron tang. The room spun. Turning on her boot heels, she fled to her bedroom on the second floor.

The door slammed shut with a bang behind her. Alice looked around. Her gaze darted to and fro. She didn't know what she was looking for. All she knew was the anger building inside her wanted to escape. Her body burned, trembling. She felt sick, terrified, lost.

Dick had to be wrong.

Her gaze fell on the massive mirror on the far wall. Her reflection stared back. Wet, matted blonde hair, weepy blue eyes. Skin, pale, with flushed red cheeks. Hitler's perfect Aryan. Except not. Her Jewish heritage saw to that.

Alice stepped up to the mirror. Her eyes stared deep into her own reflection. Tears eluded her. Instead, she felt only hatred. A deep, furious, raging hatred for the Nazis.

Dick had to be wrong. 

Except he wasn't.

Alice screamed and pounded the mirror with both her hands. Shards sliced her skin as it burst into pieces, cutting her palms. Pain shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Warm, sticky blood oozed down her calloused hands.

Her breaths came heaving, shallow. The pain burned secondary to her fury. She didn't want to see the perfect Aryan stare back. Fuck the perfect Aryan. She'd been gifted the Nordic complexion. But so had Bernadette. Blonde hair and blue eyes meant nothing if one was a Semite.

Alice slid down against the wooden foot of the bed in a daze. She stared at the door. Blood had pooled up in her hands. It dripped to the floor, staining a bit of her pants. It turned streaks of her arms red, dripping in long lines down her bare skin. But the pain barely registered. Nothing registered. In the dark, she closed her eyes.

Someone knocked on her door. It opened a moment later. Alice glanced up to see Nixon standing against the hallway light. He looked at the shattered mirror and back down.

When she didn't respond, Nixon unscrewed his flask. One drink, and then he moved into the room and flipped on a second light. "Jesus." He looked down at her hands and then leaned back into the hallway. "Hey, someone go find Doc!"

Silence followed. For a couple of minutes, only the sounds of their breathing filled the room, or the occasional swish of alcohol when Nixon took a drink. He watched her, completely at a loss of what to do. When feet pounded down the hall, Nixon turned. Doc Roe and Dick Winters came inside. The medic looked at her carefully. He moved towards her.

She looked up. "Gene." It came out almost like a whine.

"Hey, chérie." He spoke quietly, kneeling down next to her. Swinging his med bag off he took her hands carefully. Gene turned around. "Gimme a few minutes with her. I'll get you two when I’m done."

Dick hesitated. But then he nodded. "C'mon Nix."

As the two officers left the room, Dick practically dragging Nixon behind him, Alice looked from her hands to Gene. He didn't say anything at first. His own warm hands turned hers over, looking at the damage the shards of glass had done.

"Major Winters told me what happened," he said a moment later.

Alice didn't respond. She watched him fish through his first aid kit for tweezers. With careful practice, he angled her right palm towards the light. Gene eased the tweezers into some of the broken skin. He removed a small shard.

Through her tears, Alice broke the silence. "Gene." But she couldn't go beyond his name. Her anger and hatred had finally mixed with a depressive agony.

"It's ok," he whispered. He removed another two shards. They also had been stained red with blood.

But Alice scrunched her face, her eyes squeezing shut. Her words poured out. "No, it isn't. Gene, she was so good. Bernadette was good." Tears streamed down her face. She could taste the saltiness as it passed her lips. "She was good. She wasn't like me. She was just good." She struggled to breathe.

Gene paused. He stared down at her hands. Finished with her right palm, he tore a sulfa packet and cleaned the wounds with it. "Alice." He paused, and then wrapped her hands in bandages. With a sigh, he turned to her. "Alice, look at me, chérie."

“I should’ve stayed! Gene I should’ve stayed, protected her. I should’ve kept her safe!”

“Alice.” At his firm tone, she opened her eyes through her tears. Gene's gentle gaze stared back at her. He held her hand and took a deep breath. "What happened to her, to your family, it ain't fair. It was evil. But you couldn't have stopped it. If you'd stayed with them, you'd be dead too."

"Gene she was so good. Her heart was good!" Alice coughed on her sobs. “She was beautiful and good and innocent. I abandoned her!”

Gene returned to work on her left hand. He tweezed out a few shards of glass, spread the sulfa, and wrapped her palm. What to do to help her eluded him. He wanted to take her pain away. "Alice, what can I do?"

Alice tried to catch her breath. After a few moments, sitting with her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face, she finally whispered to him, voice harsh. "Gene they've taken everything. They took everything from me."

"They didn't take us." With a deep breath, Gene looked at her. He didn't know what to say, what to do. "Listen, it's late. Why don't you try to sleep? I've got some sleeping pills to help."

Alice hesitated. But then she nodded. Gene helped her off the floor and took a last look at her hands. Confident in the bandages, he dug around in his pack for the pills. "While you change, I'll go get you some water."

He left the room, easing the door shut. Her feet wouldn't move. After a minute in the middle of the floor, Alice slipped into shorts and left on her tank top. Her combat boots went to sit beside the bed, and she crawled into the sheets. The Nazi family who had vacated the house had been well off. The bed moulded to her touch.

With a quick knock, Gene came back in. Two small pills in hand, he walked to the bed. "Here." He handed over a glass of water. He watched her take them. "Good. Chérie, you'll get through this. I swear. You helped Luz, you helped Malarkey, you helped Captain Nixon. This company is going to help you.”

Alice nodded through her tears. Her heart, her entire body, ached as she lay herself down beneath the sheets. She couldn’t say anything more.

"You aren't alone." With a last look at her, he flipped off the lights and slipped out of the room.

Gene closed the door gingerly. As it clicked shut, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Memories of his grandmother rushed in. He wished he had her touch, her gift.

He paused next to her door, back against the wall. His eyes closed. The words of one of his favorite prayers spilled from his lips, almost inaudibly. "Remember oh most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly into thee, oh virgins, my mother. To you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy, hear and answer me."

He paused. "Hear and answer me." He let thoughts of his grandmother and her unending faith fill him, and put all thought towards helping Alice. He put all thought towards God, asking for help in guiding and healing his friend. "God, let me take her pain."

All the officers were still in the central room when he went back down the stairs, poker game clearly abandoned. His med bag bounced against his hip. All of them looked up when he stepped into the room.

"How're her hands?" Nixon asked. He stood by the window, next to Dick, leaning against the wall. The flask he always carried hovered over his chest.

Gene sighed. "Not that bad. There were a few pieces 'a glass in her skin. But it'll be fine."

"Doc, does she need to come off the line?"

All of them turned to Dick as he asked the question they all had been wrestling with, and had been since Kaufering. The last person to get pulled off had been Buck Compton and Gene had to admit she hovered dangerously close to acting like Buck before he'd left. When he didn't respond right away, the officers turned back to him.

Doc took another deep breath. "I don't think that'd be good, sir. With Lieutenant Compton, he had somewhere else to go, to look forward to. With Lieutenant Klein, this company is all she has left. I think takin' her away would do much worse than letting her work this out with people she trusts."

"You think she's safe?" Dick added.

Gene paused again. He stared at the table. "I think if she's with this company, she's safer than on 'er own."

Dick nodded. He paused, taking a deep breath, before nodding again. "That's what I needed to know."

"I gave her sleeping pills," Gene said. "Hopefully that'll get her through the night."

"And if it doesn't?"

He frowned. "I'm next door, sir."

"Right." Dick nodded to him. "Thanks Doc."

Gene nodded. Frowning, he turned away and went to leave. His mind worked overtime.

"Eugene," Dick added. When Gene turned back, he continued. "Get some rest, too."

"Sir."

Gene left the house quickly. Clouds had started to overtake the stars. He had taken up residence in a next door apartment complex. With a few deep breaths, he went inside.

In the lounge on the first floor, a dozen members of Easy Company sat around playing cards or drinking. When Gene closed the door behind himself, a few looked up.

"What'd the officers need you for, Doc?" Malarkey asked. He handed George Luz, his dealer, three of his cards.

Gene hesitated. He felt that George at least deserved and needed to know what had happened with Alice. The two had been extremely good friends since Toccoa. Liebgott was another person to tell given the man’s own Jewish heritage, but he wasn't confident the man would take the news of the death camp much better than Alice herself. Malarkey, too, would probably need and like to know. With Muck and Penkala and Compton gone, Alice and he had been spending good amounts of time together.

The others had stopped what they were doing and watched Gene carefully. Clearly he'd taken too much time hesitating. "Some glass broke, cut up Alice's hands."

"She all right?" George asked. He took the cigarette from his mouth.

"She'll be ok." He hesitated again. Gene looked at Don and George. "But I do need to talk to you two. Anyone know where Liebgott is?"

Johnny Martin gestured to the right. "Down the hall, second door on the right."

"Right." Gene moved down the hall, George and Don both following him, confused. When he reached the door, he knocked. "Liebgott?"

A moment later, the door opened. "What's up, Doc?"

"I need to talk to you three." He shuffled his feet. "Your room free?"

Lieb paused but nodded. He opened the door up further. "Skinny isn't coming back for a while, and Babe's asleep."

Gene moved into the room, followed by the clearly confused George and Malarkey. They moved to the dining room table. With a deep breath, Gene settled into a chair. The others followed suit.

"What I'm about to say stays between you three. The officers know, and that's it." Gene looked around at them. When they all nodded, he continued. "Alice got some bad news tonight, and she didn't take it well."

"What happened?" Lieb asked quickly.

George leaned closer. "What do you mean, didn't take it well?"

"Slow down." He leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "Back in Toccoa. Those first few weeks, she got the news about her family's death." They all nodded, so he sighed. "Turns out, they weren't dead."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Lieb leaned over the table. "Not dead?"

"Paris' Jewish population was rounded up that July. They were sent to one of the camps like Landsberg, except worse. According to Major Winters, this place was ten times bigger, with execution chambers, ovens for cremation, basically a death camp." Gene looked at the three men. "Her parents and her sister were sent there."

"Jesus Christ," muttered George.

Lieb looked absolutely furious. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white. Gene watched him closely.

"How long were they there," Malarkey asked, voice low.

"Her parents died quick. But Bernadette was there until this past December."

George took his cigarette out. "Holy fuck. Two years? She was there for two years?"

"How's Alice?" Malarkey asked quickly.

Gene sighed. "Not good." He frowned and shook his head, glancing down the hall to the front door of the apartment. "She's real shaken. Major Winters talked about taking 'er off the line."

"What?!" Both Lieb and George objected immediately.

"I told him why it was a bad idea. He shouldn't be sending her out."

"Jesus." George sat back in his chair after a few moments of silence. He looked around the room. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

Gene just shook his head ever so slightly. He didn't have an answer. They hadn't trained him for this.

"I'm gonna kill every fuckin' Kraut from here to Berlin," Liebgott seethed. "Fucking bastards-"

"Liebgott! Your anger isn't going to help her," Gene snapped.

"You're not angry? After what those pieces of shit-"

Gene turned in his chair and faced Liebgott head on. The whole table went absolutely silent. "Don't think for one second, Liebgott, that you're the only one angry here. You're a grown up, get a hold a' yourself. What matters isn't makin' the Nazis pay, it's making sure this doesn't end with Alice gettin' hurt more."

Both George and Malarkey watched them carefully. Lieb had the sense to stay quiet. As the medic gave him one final stare, he turned away.

"So, what are we going to do?" Malarkey asked a moment later.

"I don't know there's much we can do," Gene admitted. He shrugged. "Watch her, mostly. She didn't say much. She was in shock. Two years she thought that her sister at least hadn't had to suffer."

George fumbled to light a cigarette. The table had fallen silent again and only the click of his lighter and the ticking of a clock made any noise. He blew out a puff of smoke.

"She said they took everything from 'er." With a sigh, Gene leaned back against the wooden chair. "We need to keep her from breakin' down further cause if she does, there's only so much I can do to keep 'em from taking her off the line."

"And then she will have lost everything,” George muttered.

Gene agreed. They returned to silence. It didn’t take long for Gene to wrestle out a cigarette for himself, and then excuse himself from the room. He needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is the final rock bottom our characters will be hitting. From here, we can only get happier. After all, VE-Day is almost here!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the news of Paris's Vel d'Hiv operation, and Alice's subsequent breakdown, we move on to our upward emotional journey. I'm very happy to finally be able to put this chapter up online.

Alice screamed, but silence followed. She felt herself screaming, shrieking into pure blackness, grasping for a lifeline that didn't exist. She was awake. But, her body wouldn't respond. Terror consumed her. She gasped for air, drowning in agony and hysteria. She couldn't move, she couldn't escape. Alice screamed again. It made no noise. Something, maybe someone, held her down. She couldn't breathe. Silent, desperate screeching filled her body.

Her eyes shot open. Her heart pounded. Alice glanced around. She'd clawed herself to full consciousness somehow. The darkness around her felt less oppressive. She felt the clean sheets beneath her hands, the comforter over her body. Her breathing still came so rapid, she almost couldn't get air at all. 

Alice scrambled out of bed. Her bare feet slammed against the wooden floor. Pain shot through her hands when she attempted, and failed, to clench her fists. Memory of but a few hours ago rushed in. The anger, the fear, the hatred, the total despair poured back in. She felt totally and completely alone, a sensation she hadn't known since the early days of Camp Toccoa.

The deep ache of emptiness made her pause. In the middle of her bedroom, she stood silent. The broken mirror on the far wall left a dark hole of nothingness. Alice moved to the side of her bed, hands fumbling as she undid her bag. Finally her hands found what she looked for. A pack of cigarettes sat at the bottom, with only two left inside. She grabbed one without hesitation. Alice lit it.

Smoke filled her lungs after just a few moments. She kept her eyes closed as she stood in her bedroom. Alice knew she should go back to sleep. Gene would insist on it. But as she continued to breathe in the nicotine, the idea of sleeping became more and more terrifying. She remembered the paralyzing fear she'd struggled to fight. Alone, she couldn't win.

The prospect of being alone scared her more than even encountering whatever force had kept her locked in blackness. Alice grabbed her coat to cover her tank top but stayed in shorts, and eased out the door. She knew Gene and George were both somewhere in the building next door. With several harsh internal curses, she regretted not finding out their rooms before bed.

The one person she wanted to find more than anyone slept in their Officers' house of course. But she knew Nixon hadn't been doing well himself. He’d been drinking too much. And they’d never had a chance to talk. As Alice stood outside her bedroom in the hall, she weighed her options. Her body ached for warmth that she couldn't give herself. Eventually, her fear won out.

Alice walked a little ways down the hall. Hesitating in the quiet darkness, she looked at his closed bedroom door. He and Harry had ended up splitting a room, while Speirs and Lipton had another, and Dick his own. She hoped Harry wouldn't mind her intrusion. Her head spun as she raised her bandaged right hand. Pain flooded her senses, emotional and physical

The cigarette in her mouth trembled along with her body. Alice tossed it aside and stomped it out. Her body trembled again.

She knocked softly. Silence followed. After a little less than a minute without a response, Alice considered giving up. But then a small light popped on, shining under the door. Her heart pounded. Guilt poured over her. None of them slept well these days. It was selfish to interrupt them. None of them deserved it.

The door opened quietly, and Harry stood there. He didn't seem at all surprised to see her. His white shirt and shorts looked wrinkled. At first he didn't say anything. Taking a moment to study her, Harry then opened the door for her. The small lamp he'd turned on shined nearby, casting dozens of shadows around the room. His bed sat on the left side, sheets messy and piled everywhere. On the other side of the room, she saw Nixon, bedraggled and out like a light.

It made her smile just a bit. "I'm glad he's sleeping," she murmured.

Harry actually chuckled. He shook his head. "You're worried about him? Right now?"

"Yeah, he’s drinking too much,” she reminded him

Harry hummed in agreement. But with a shake of his head, he turned back to her. "I think he's more worried about you, these days."

Heat rushed to her face. Her shaking started again. She shuffled her weight back and forth. The door stood closed behind her now, but she hadn't moved further into the room. Even just seeing Nixon there, peaceful, made her feel a little less cold and alone. She turned to Harry. Her arms hugged her chest. "I'm ok."

"Right, cause that's why you're in here at three in the morning." Harry shook his head. Sighing, he looked her up and down. "How are your hands? Doc said you cut them?"

Alice sighed. "It was stupid. But they only hurt if I try to squeeze them too hard." With a frown, she watched Nixon turn in his sleep. Her heart ached for him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up."

Harry just snorted with laughter. He shook his head. "Wake him up. He'll be mad if you don't."

"No, it's fine. Let him sleep.”

But Harry didn't listen. He grabbed a shirt off the floor, balled it up, and threw it at Nixon. "Nix, get up." The man groaned, and Harry walked over to him. As Alice remained rooted in front of the door, wrapped tight in her coat, he shook Nixon awake. "Nix, come on."

Finally he sputtered an incoherent curse and sat up. Harry smiled, his gap toothed grin visible to both Alice and Nixon. Nixon's face scrunched against the small lamp light.

"Alice is up," Harry said. As Nixon straightened himself and got a handle on being awake, Harry flashed Alice a tiny smile. "I need a drink. Keep her company, Nix."

He left the room without a word. Alice still felt bad about waking Nix, but seeing him made her feel a little less alone. It warmed her in a way she couldn't explain. Almost like sitting in front of a fireplace. Suddenly her frozen emotions threatened to spill again, seeing him there.

Nixon stood from the bed and walked over. She watched him try to force a smirk. Her heart fluttered. She remembered his words a bit over a week ago, totally drunk and borderline incoherent. He'd wanted to kiss her. She'd wanted to kiss him. But she wouldn't, not until he'd sobered up. And then Landsberg had happened.

"How are your hands?"

"They hurt a little."

"You scared Dick to death," Nixon tried to joke. But he wasn't smiling.

"I'm sorry for waking you up. I know it's been a rough week for everyone" Alice felt her breath hitch. She sighed. "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want…"

Nixon pulled her into a tight hug. Her arms folded up against his chest, tears falling. She couldn't stop them, not now. She needed to know she wasn't alone, and of all the people in Easy, Nix felt the closest like home. He smelled like Vat 69, and suddenly she thanked God for the drink. It made her feel safe, because Vat 69 meant Lewis Nixon. In a world where nothing made sense anymore, that remained constant.

"If you don't want to go back to bed, you can stay here." He also had moulded to her touch. As she stood there, alternating between breathing and sobbing into his shoulder, he closed his eyes. "Harry won't care. It's like sharing a foxhole but more comfortable."

The prospect of facing the absolute blackness of sleep alone scared her enough that she didn't even need to consider how wonderful having Nixon as a buddy would feel. Anyone would've been welcome at that point. As she separated from Nix, he eased her jacket off. The white bandages around her hands stood out against her warm, flushed skin.

"I'm just gonna read," he told her. As he slipped back into the queen sized bed, he tossed her most of the blankets. His book sat on his bedside table.

As Nixon sat himself up against the headboard, Alice all but collapsed into the bed. It smelled like Vat 69, too. Nix lit a cigarette. Within minutes, she passed out, comforted by the warmth of his presence and the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. 

Nixon didn't even realize he was playing with her hair until his finger stuck in a knot. Her breathing had mostly slowed. She faced the wall away from him, her back against his side. It felt intoxicatingly warm. Her side rose and fell methodically, though occasionally her breathing stilted.

Harry opened the door a few minutes later. He glanced from Nixon's bed to the still shining lamp and sighed. "She's asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Good. God knows she needs it."

"Did you bring a drink back for me?" Nixon asked, smirking. He took his cigarette from his mouth and shifted as carefully as he could, sitting up more. 

Harry snorted. "No way, Lewis. She agrees, you're drinking too much. She came in here and said she was worried about you."

Though he wanted to be angry at him, Nixon knew Harry was right. And he knew Alice was right too. He just bit his cheek and turned away. He pushed several knotted strands of Alice's unkempt hair away from her face. His own trembling calmed as he looked at her. When she slept, her face looked peaceful. These days, Alice's radiant smile rarely made an appearance. Nixon wanted nothing more than to make her laugh. But neither of them were in a good enough state to do that.

Harry moved back over to his bed. With the cigarette finally done, Nix took a deep breath. He slid down into the bed further so he could actually sleep. He found his face level with her hair. It smelled like roses thanks to the wealthy Nazis they'd kicked out of the house. It was more intoxicating than any bottle of scotch whiskey.

"Shit, I think I'm in love, Harry," he muttered, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Harry's laugh sounded across the room. He fiddled with his blankets. "Nixon, you've been in love with her for a long time." 

"Fuck." He closed his eyes and shook his head. He’d never felt this way about anyone. After years of convincing himself he could go without, having her laying next to him, totally at ease, it sent him reeling. 

“Yep. Just like me and Kitty,” Harry added, still chuckling to himself. 

Moments later, Harry clicked off the light. The room plunged into darkness, and Nixon settled himself to listening to Alice’s breathing and heartbeat. He could feel it as much as hear it. Taking another deep breath of the floral scent that Alice had wrapped herself in, he relaxed. The thought that maybe one good thing, despite all the horror and trauma and agony, could come out of this war helped him drift off to sleep.


	35. Chapter 35

For the first morning in almost as long as Nixon could recall, he woke up with the sun. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. Warmth against his back and the scent of roses dragged him to reality. Two desires pulled him in different directions. The feeling of Alice being so close and so calm begged him to stay in bed as long as he could. But he ached for a drink. His mind reeled from all the pain he’d seen in the past week, a sort of anguish he hadn’t even realized existed until they’d reached Germany. Senseless, really. At least in Bastogne, the suffering had had a purpose.

He closed his eyes again. The moment ended all too soon, though, as he heard Harry shuffling in the bed over and remembered how early they needed to get moving. With an internal sigh, Nixon pushed the covers back and forced himself out of bed. The sudden lack of warmth made him shiver. With his bare feet against the wood floor, Nixon moved back into the hall. The study on the second floor had quite a few bottles of scotch, if he remembered correctly.

The door to the study opened with a small squeak of the hinges. Nixon could feel the sag in his shoulders as he wandered to the liquor cabinet. Someone, probably Harry, had left the key in the lock. When the glass door swung open, Nixon immediately began rummaging through the bottles. Grabbing an open one from the middle, he pulled it out and took down a shot glass from the top of the cabinet.

Thoughts of King Midas filled Nixon’s head as he poured the golden scotch into the glass. With a huff, he placed the bottle on a nearby desk and downed half of it. It burned his throat. Nixon all but gasped for breath. Closing his eyes, he let the drink settle.

“You’re up early."

Nixon turned. Dick stood in the doorway, already dressed. “Yeah, a goddamn miracle,” Nixon half-joked. After topping off his shot glass, he moved over to Dick. “What time are we out of here?”

“No later than 0800 hours.”

“Right.”

Nixon downed the whole shot glass in one go. After placing it firmly on a table, he moved past Dick into the hallway. He stopped in the doorway to his room. Alice had gotten up, sitting on the side of the bed, head in her bandaged hands and elbows on her knees. Her golden hair fell into her face as she sat in silence and stared at the ground. Across from her, Harry sat lacing up his boots.

“What time are we moving out,” Harry asked him.

“By 0800,” Nixon said.

Alice took a deep breath. Straightening up, she pulled her hands away from her face. Nixon wished it would have surprised him to see tears on her face, but it didn’t. She cleaned her face as best she could with the bottom of her shirt. Fixating on the bandages around her hands, Nixon didn’t know what to do or say. The familiar ache for another drink crashed into him again. But he took a deep breath and willed it away. Getting drunk wouldn’t help Alice one bit.

“I’ll meet you all downstairs,” she said.

Her voice sounded a bit harsh at first, and as she pushed past Nixon into the hallway he could see how red her eyes were. In a moment of impulse, Nixon laid a hand on her arm. At the touch, he felt her shudder. When she looked at him, she offered a small smile. They exchanged no words. He let her go a moment later and her door clicked closed behind her.

“Come on, you need to change too,” Harry reminded him. Standing from his bed, Harry grabbed his helmet from the desk nearby and moved out. “Lewis, she’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” He huffed. “Yeah.”

Left to himself, Nixon headed back inside his room. With sluggish movements, he pulled his pants and fatigues on over his undershirt and shorts. He could just feel the alcohol take the edge off. A bit of the warmth he’d lost leaving Alice’s bed came back from the scotch. But the heat from the drink paled in comparison, a sort of cheap counterfeit of the reality he experienced in her presence. He groaned.

Nixon blamed the rose-scented soap. He’d been able to force down any feelings for over two years, for his own sake more than anything. Now it felt like he’d been hit by a tidal wave. The fact that her presence had made drowning himself in alcohol much less effective pissed him off, too. But his thoughts the previous night, that maybe, just maybe, this would give him something out of the war better than he’d ever expected, made him pause.

“Nix, you ready?” Dick’s voice echoed through the door before he knocked. “We’re getting ready to move out.”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

With a sigh, he grabbed his helmet off the desk where it had sat next to Harry’s. He found Dick standing outside. Together they descended the stairs into the entrance hall of the mansion. Harry, Ron, Lipton, and Alice stood waiting for them. Her gaze seemed distant, distracted. Her arms crossed over her chest, a tell that Nixon knew immediately meant she was thinking about something upsetting. He’d picked that up years ago. 

“Speirs, is Easy ready?” Dick asked.

He nodded. “Yes, sir,” he assured him.

“Harry, HQ?”

“Ready as we can be,” he said.

Dick nodded. “Good. We should be in Thalem by the end of the day. We’re supervising clean up, acting as an occupation force.”

He had them move out and join the men. Foley and Shames were getting Easy Company settled. At the appearance of the other officers, they climbed into a jeep. Just as they split to their own rides, Nixon noticed Dick pull Alice aside. He joined them.

“Please,” she muttered. “I’m fine. Just tired. And it’s easier to sleep in the troop trucks than a jeep,” she pointed out.

Dick watched her for a moment. When she didn’t look away from his gaze, he just nodded, releasing a small sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” When she turned to leave, Alice noticed Nixon. She flashed him another smile, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. It was all she could muster. “I’ll see you boys in Thalem.”

Alice heard Nixon talking to Dick as she moved away from the jeeps. Glancing around, she did her best to locate any of the men of Easy that she trusted most. She saw Janovec and several of the other most recent replacements talking to Grant and Talbert. As much as she liked Janovec, he was not in her list of trusted companions. So she kept looking. After getting jostled by a few men of Fox Company, Alice paused and took a few deep breaths. 

“Hey. Alice!”

At Johnny’s call, she looked up. It took a moment, but she finally located him one truck over. He stood with George and Bull, the latter two smoking in silence. She pushed her way over. Using her elbows to break through the crowd, she resumed folding her arms when she reached them.

“Got space?” she asked them.

“We’ll just kick Tony and Les off,” George attempted to joke. 

Alice knew by the look on their faces that they’d heard what happened. The rumor mill of Easy Company never ceased. She glanced from them to the tailgate of the truck. Liebgott sent her a nod and offered his hand up.

His grip was firm as he hauled her into the truck. She stumbled slightly at the top, but when he scooted down to make room for her on the end, she nodded her thanks. Johnny, George, and Bull followed suit. Orders from Talbert, Lipton, and the other officers echoed through the area. They would be moving off momentarily.

Across from her, Bull settled down between Alley and Heffron. Johnny filled in the gap on her left followed by George on her right. The truck filled to capacity. With a last few shouts from what sounded like Foley or Peacock, the engines soon roared to life. The caravan left the town.

Alice let her head fall back against the side of the truck, eyes closed. The late April breeze ruffled her hair. The close presence on either side of her of her friends managed to make her feel a bit better, but if she was honest with herself, all she really felt was exhaustion. No tears, no angry outbursts, no curses, just silent numbness filled her body.

No way to thank Nixon for his help crossed her mind. She’d spent the whole time since waking up trying to find the words to express it, but there were none. In fact, the only thing that even came close to bringing her to tears had been his willingness to just be there. He’d done it in Bastogne, and in the hospital in Holland. He’d just been there, whenever she needed it. 

Part of her wanted nothing more than to stay with him, just be in his presence. But the other part of her, it just wanted to be alone. Sit in the quiet, in the silence, isolated. As the German countryside passed by, she focused on her breathing. No one bothered her. All around, the conversations continued as usual. 

After lunch, she’d gone through three cigarettes in an hour. When she pulled out a forth, George nudged her. She looked at him. He watched her closely, almost hesitating, which was enough to concern her. 

“Come on, three’s enough, ok?” he murmured. “You know Doc would be on you about that.”

Alice didn’t respond. She stared at him, unblinking. Her body deflated as he didn’t back down, and she nodded, putting cigarette number four back in the pack of smokes. It caught her off guard when George put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, but she didn’t protest. And, based on George’s frown, maybe that said enough.

Most of the day was spent drifting in and out of sleep. George never pushed her away, just let her rest even when it occasionally meant her using him as a pillow. So when they finally pulled into the town of Thalem right at sunset, she had to force herself to focus. Staying focused had been the biggest issue by far all day.

The tailgate dropped and the men exited in pairs. Thalem looked much worse than Landsberg am Lech. Instead of proudly standing mansions, most of the town of Thalem had crumbled to the ground. Mountains of bricks and debris lined the streets. It became apparent quite quickly that most of the men would be sleeping in tents, not houses.

It took several moments of standing in half a daze before Alice reminded herself she had work to do. She’d need to be a translator for Dick at the very least. So with a final look back at the gathering enlisted men, she moved her way through the crumbling streets until she found the other officers.

The next hour passed by in a blur. She didn’t recall much after the fact, just a few snippets of conversation in German with some of the elders of the town. Dick had dismissed her to a house where Harry, Ron, and Lipton would also be staying. By some grace of God, the house she’d found herself in had a working shower, and for almost ten minutes she’d stood beneath the water drowning herself as best she could.

When she got out and dried off, Alice slipped into her pajamas. The sound of her bare feet padding against the wooden floors made the only sound in the room she’d gotten. She knew Harry would be back soon to take up his spot on the floor, but for now, she had it to herself. 

Alice massaged her forehead for a moment, sitting on the mattress cross-legged. Only a bit of light illuminated the room, coming from a single albeit large lamp on the table to the right of the bed. When a knock on the door sounded a few minutes later, she opened her eyes and told them they could enter.

Nixon, not Harry, stood in the doorway. He had his flask in one hand, and his right on the door handle. She flashed him a small smile. Taking it as permission to enter, he closed the door behind himself.

“Does your house have running water?” Alice asked. “Because this one does. Which makes me feel much better.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I don’t know. Dick was checking it out.”

“Any idea where Harry is?”

“He was wandering around outside, trying to track down some decent food, I think,” Nixon said. Raising his flask, he shook it a bit. “Thought I’d bring you a drink.” 

“Always a gentleman,” Alice teased.

Nixon let out a sarcastic laugh. “Right. Gentleman.”

Wasting no time, he pulled the desk chair from nearby and pulled it a bit closer, adjacent to the bed. He handed her the flask. Alice downed a large drink. It wasn’t Vat 69, but it was still decent scotch whisky.

“Would you rather own a dog, or a cat?” Nixon asked.

Alice paused, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “What?”

“Dog or cat.”

Alice laughed. “I’ve answered this one before, Nix. Both. I would want both.”

“Oh right,” he said, clearly well aware of this fact. “You’re turn.”

Her already tiny smile fell. She tried to think up a good question. “Would you rather live in New York or San Francisco?”

“New York.” He wasted no time in answer. “Right, my turn.” A long pause followed as he hesitated. But at last he spoke up again. “Would you rather go back to 1942, where it all started, and change what happened? Or stay here.”

As soon as he started the question, she understood his reason for the game. It was that, right there. For a moment her heart ached at the choices before her. Grief, anger, fear clenched her chest and suffocated her lungs. 

She looked down at her hands in her lap. Biting her cheek, she shook her head. “I would go back, because it’s my fault I wasn’t there for her,” she whispered. Her eyes squeezed shut.

Nixon didn’t respond. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but she’d never lied to him before and she had no intention of starting then. The admission must’ve hurt him. But if she had had the option, she would’ve given everything, anything in her power to save her sister at least. Even her own life. 

So it surprised her when she felt the bed shift. But in a matter of moments Nixon had pulled her closer, let her all but collapse into his side. Again, exhaustion took over. The warmth of his chest made her heart beat a bit slower, calming her breathing. 

She couldn’t cry. Not any more. Her body had no more tears left to shed for anyone or anything. But suddenly, with Nixon offering a sense of security, the pain rushed back in and manifested in tears. Silent ones, they stained her cheeks. But he didn’t say anything, so she didn’t move. 

When Harry came in half an hour later, Alice had fallen asleep. Nixon had managed to maneuver her into the bed without waking her, and he was just putting the chair back against the wall. He downed a long drink as Harry looked at him. 

“Harry,” he muttered, “You wouldn’t happen to know why she says it was her fault for not being there? Getting attacked in a bar was hardly under her control.”

Harry paused. He glanced from her to Nixon and back, hands on his hips. “No. But she mentioned off hand something about using her body against the Nazis. I was pushing her about trust back in France.”

Nixon frowned. He looked back at her. After a long pause he turned to Harry who had set his cot up on the floor. “Right.” 

The realization that maybe he didn’t know the whole story about her past caused him to pause. Harry was right; they’d talked about it before. They knew very little about pre-war Alice. Maybe it was time they found out.


	36. Chapter 36

**May 1st, 1945**

Alice swayed where she stood. Comprehension went out the window. For a moment, she just stared blankly at Dick and Nixon on the other side of the room. Their mouths moved, but she couldn’t hear them.

Hitler was dead.

The world spun. She couldn’t breath. Her heart raced.

Hitler was dead. 

He was dead. 

A hand grabbed her arm, grip firm. The sudden contact sent Alice reeling. She realized they were watching her closely, Lipton, Shames, Foley, Peacock, Harry, Nix, Dick, and Ron. Her gaze traveled from the hand on her arm to Ron. 

“You alright?” he asked.

Alice released a breath she had no idea she’d been holding. Oxygen filled her lungs again, chasing away the dizziness. She could’ve heard a pin drop with how silent the room had gone. Taking a moment to breathe again, she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

“Right.” Dick nodded. “Dismissed.”

Ron finally released his grip on her arm as the officers began to leave the room. Alice watched them leave, hesitating. For the first time in days she felt something. But she didn’t know what it was. Almost like an odd contradiction of anger and relief.

It didn’t take long for the anger to take over. How dare that monster die and yet the war continue. How dare he take the easy way out. He needed to pay for his crimes. They all did, every single one of them. Realistically, Alice had never expected to be the one to put a bullet between Hitler’s eyes, but oh how she’d thought about it since Bastogne.

For the first time in days, Alice felt more than exhaustion. Rage filled her entire being, a fire burning through her. Her muscles tensed. She felt her breathing increase rapidly. The war should’ve ended. It should’ve been over with Hitler’s death!

Ron looked at her again. “Take a breath.”

She faced him head on. Alice realized Harry, Nixon, and Dick were still in the room too. It took a moment to calm herself enough to take a breath, but she finally did so. “I’m fine!” she snapped.

“Calm down,” Ron said again. His voice stayed flat, calm as he spoke to her.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Ron,” she hissed back. Based on the way his jaw clenched, Alice guessed he held back some sort of biting retort. For a moment, Alice felt bad about snapping. She forced her voice to return to a more even timbre. “I just need some air.”

“Alice, we’re moving out in an hour.” Dick told her.

She nodded, forcing her body to relax as much as she could. “Right.” Turning on her heels, she moved out of the CP and into the overcast afternoon. The harmonies of a string quartet made her pause in her step.

In the center of the main square, surrounded by rubble heaps and half-destroyed buildings, four men had set up with their instruments. It sounded like Beethoven. She couldn’t place the piece, though. And yet that small reminder of better times had her frozen in place.

While soldiers and civilians alike moved about picking up or smoking, Alice stayed where she was just outside the door. The music calmed her. Hitler’s death could only be considered a good thing. She tried to push thoughts of dashed hopes of revenge as far from her mind as possible. Maybe all she’d needed was air, and a little Beethoven.

Nixon stepped up next to her. The sound of him taking a sip of his flask identified him to her immediately. “Ron asked me to go tell Easy’s men who are up on the roof.”

“I’ll come,” she agreed.

They moved off to the right, having to go around the back of the building where several of Easy’s men had situated themselves over the town. It had become a popular smoking spot since they’d arrived a few days prior. She’d been up there once, late a night. She’d sat alone, a bit cold, but at least the cold had made her feel something.

They passed a mother cradling her sobbing child. Alice paused in her step for a moment. The infant’s cries echoed off the walls of the building next to her, joining with the string quartet in a perfect, melancholic lament. When she hurried a few steps to Nixon’s side, he slowed.

They moved through a massive hole in the wall of the one-time breakfast nook. The stairs were still intact, but glass and rubble crunched beneath each step they took. Nixon led the way up. Each footfall sounded clear against the wood. She followed.

“I’ll tell you one thing about the Krauts,” George muttered, “they sure do clean up good.”

Any other time in the years she’d known him, Alice would’ve corrected him for his slur. But she didn’t. Instead she looked past Nixon who moved to stand parallel with the sitting Liebgott, just behind George. Perco was there too, and Bull and Webster. They sat on some chairs or piles of rubble while George stood at the front, one leg propped up on a fallen stone. Most of them smoked.

Liebgott nodded, hunched over. “Yeah. All you need’s a little Mozart.”

“Beethoven.”

Alice grinned at Nixon’s correction. Of course he’d known that. She had to hide her grin behind her hand as best she could. The sensation of laughing felt odd, a strange lightness in her chest. 

“Sorry, sir?” Liebgott asked.

“That’s not Mozart,” he explained. “That’s Beethoven.”

The boys stayed quiet. Below, the strings continued on without ceasing. The music soothed but also hurt. It became a sort of painful reminder of what had passed. But when Nixon finally spoke up again a few moments later, the reason of their visit crashed into her.

“Hitler’s dead.”

As one, they snapped around in his direction. At first, silence. George made eye contact with her a moment later, noticing her for the first time. 

“Holy shit,” Liebgott breathed.

Nixon nodded. “Shot himself iin Berlin,”

Another moment passed. Bull followed up, “Is the war over, sir?”

“No.” Alice snapped.

At the same moment, Nixon answer a bit more calmly. Though his tone was laced with anger. “No. We have orders to Berchtesgaden. We’re gonna move out in one hour.”

“Why? The man’s not home.” Webster’s mutterings dripped with sarcasm.

A few half-hearted snorts of laughter sounded around the men. They began to pick themselves up from their spots, maneuvering off the ruined corner of the second floor. With a gentle pat on George’s shoulder, Nixon moved closer to the front.

Webster muttered again. “Shoulda shot himself three years ago. Saved us a lot of trouble.”

Alice nodded at him as he passed her. He flashed her a small smile. The others continued by, some of them too engrossed in their own thoughts to even notice her.

“Yeah, he should’ve,” Nixon said. “But he didn’t.”

He didn’t. He didn’t. Alice felt her heart sink even further. When George passed her, he gave her a gentle pat on the arm. All she could do was nod in response. Soon just Alice and Nixon stood on the ruined outcropping of the building.

“I better go see if Dick needs my help,” he muttered.

She took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah…”

They left the house together, Alice following behind. She felt herself distancing again, pushing down the anger and sadness that cropped up as the quartet ended and only the sounds of war returned. The thought that all this, everything that had happened, the dead in their wake, had been for nothing made her sick. Had Skip and Alex, had Hoobler, had Jackson or Webb or Julian died not to end the reign of a sick, twisted man? But instead, died for a war that would go on endlessly?

The Germans crumbled by the day. And yet even so, they wouldn’t surrender. Would anything be left but ashes? Should anything be left but ashes?

Alice stopped in her tracks at the thought. When Germany’s destruction becoming a thought she entertained had entered her mind, she didn’t know. With a deep sigh, she stuffed those thoughts away. Germany didn’t deserve to burn. Only the Nazis deserved to burn.

A freezing shiver cascaded down her body. Memories of letting the Nazis touch her flooded her mind unbidden. Alice tried to stuff it down, away, into a little box in the corner of her soul. She couldn’t afford to think about that. She couldn’t afford the weakness.

Go through the motions. Alice put one foot in front of the other. Soon enough she’d tracked down some work and helped the men prepare the caravan of trucks. The trip to Berchtesgaden would take only a few days. After filling her canteen with some of the scotch in her house, Alice rejoined the group now ready to depart.

She slept most of that day. When they stopped for the night in a large, half vacant town, she assisted Ron and Dick with getting the civilians out. Five minutes. They always had five minutes. 

Before long, she stood in a hotel room by herself. Alice stood in the center of the small room, hands at her side, cigarette in her mouth. She’d gone through an entire pack in two days. She only had two cigarettes left total, until they got issued more in two more days. But she pushed the thought away. She’d get them from someone somehow.

When someone knocked, she finally pulled herself from her musings. The cigarette had died. She felt jittery, but all she wanted was another one. As she fumbled for her second to last smoke, Alice opened the door. Her eyebrows raised when she found Gene and Dick standing at her door, the latter with his arms across his chest.

“What?” she asked.

Gene glanced over at Dick. The slightly taller man paused for a moment. Then he nodded. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

Gene frowned. “You been smoking way too much, Alice. Dangerous amounts. Even Luz talked to me about it.”

“What, is this some sort of fuckin’ intervention,” she snapped. 

Dick looked at her harder. “You need to convince me, and Doc Roe, that you’re sound enough not to pull off the line,” he said simply.

“What?” Alice staggered for a moment where she stood in front of them. Her mouth wide in shock, she just glanced between the two of them. “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” he said. “Listen, we’re all concerned about you-”

“All? Who’s all?”

Dick shook his head. With a frown, he glanced back down the hall. “Do you trust us?”

Alice frowned. “Yes.”

“Why did you say you were the reason Bernadette got taken?” he asked.

The question hit her like a sucker punch. It knocked the wind out of her and she stumbled back for a moment as if she’d actually been hit. She’d only told one person that story, Malark, and she’d hoped it would never really come up again. But she trusted Dick. She trusted Gene. Alice slammed her eyes closed, fighting with herself. Her throat constricted. Her whole body screamed at her to send them away.

“I assume Nix wants to know as well,” she whispered, opening her eyes. “He’s the only way you’d know.”

“Nixon, Speirs, and Harry,” he told her. “If you’re willing to let us listen.”

She glanced up at him. Let them listen. The way he staged the question made her pause. She felt a little less scared when he said it like that. Did she trust them?

She did.

“Fine, yeah,” she said, sighing. “Ok. Ok.”

Hugging her arms across her chest Alice stepped between them out into the hall. Trust. She had to trust them. She had to. When Dick took the lead, she walked behind him next to Gene through the hotel hallway. Dick stopped in front of his door. When he opened it, she paused in surprise. They were already there. As her shock wore off for a moment, the fact that they’d known she’d trust them hit her hard. They’d known. She hadn’t even known. 

Gene nudged her from behind. Alice realized she must’ve looked like a deer in headlights. The second half of the bed, next to Nixon, sat open. She moved over and pulled herself up onto the mattress, cross legged. She put the pillow in her lap.

“It’s is a fucking intervention,” she muttered, covering her face. “Scheisse.” Nixon cracked up next to her. The sound put her more at ease and she relaxed her upper body a bit. With the door shut, Dick leaning against it, she shuddered. “Fine. What’ll convince you to let me stay,” she muttered with all the sass she could muster. But then she changed her tone. They didn’t deserve her bite. “What do you want to know?”

“Start at the beginning?” Dick suggested.

The beginning. As she looked at him, her mind reeled. Which beginning? The beginning beginning, or the beginning of the end? Alice shuddered. She looked away from Dick, glancing at Ron and Harry. The former half sat, half stood against a desk to her right while Harry occupied the chair.

“Right. The beginning.” She took a deep breath. “Right. Right.” Alice tried to formulate her thoughts into something coherent. After a moment, a conversation she’d had in Bastogne flooded back to her. “Well, I was a pretty pathetic kid,” she said, breaking out into a small smile. “I was really scared of uh-” Alice realized she didn’t know the translation so she turned to Gene- “uh...un ver de terre. The squishy worms that live under the ground?”

“Earthworms,” Gene supplied.

“Yes, that. Earthworms. Anyways, Marc thought it was hilarious. Used to chase me everywhere with them when we’d be out in the country. They’re horrible.” She shivered. “I much preferred being inside and playing piano to do anything at all involving nature.” She smiled to herself again. “Bernadette, she, well she knew I was really good at braiding her. Made it her personal mission to get me to do it for her day in and day out. Anyways, needless to say joining a resistance group based in the mountains was not on my agenda,” she tried to joke. After a pause, she nodded. “I met Geneviève when we had classes together at the University of Paris.”

“Geneviève?” Ron asked.

Alice let out a small laugh. “Sorry. I don’t know why I thought you’d know her. Geneviève de Gaulle, General de Gaulle’s niece.”

Harry choked on his drink. “General de Gaulle’s niece?” 

The others mirrored his shock. Even Dick looked at her in surprise. Alice couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” She shook her head and her smile fell though. “She’s been missing since 1943. Caught by the Gestapo.” After several moments of potent silence, she continued on. “I helped her distribute an underground newspaper. A local group of resistance members also had me act as courier since we had many of the same contacts. The Nazis stopped a lot less women than men,” she tried to explain. “Then they asked me for help with something bigger.” 

Her voice faltered. Alice couldn’t help but feel she should’ve turned down the job. If she’d have turned it down, she’d have been able to stay in Paris. But then she’d have died too.

“Bigger?” Dick prompted.

Alice glanced up. Straightening her back, she nodded. “They needed a woman who was either German or could pass as German to try to get some documents out of the possession of a Herr Shultz. He was a high ranking Nazi officer, I can’t recall what rank. He’d been recalled back to Berlin. The OSS reached out to the resistance movement in Paris, who in turn, turned to me.”

Again, she paused. She could feel them watching her. She could feel it, but it didn’t matter. All she could think about was that night.

“I found him at a bar. I talked to him for a couple hours. I think he enjoyed hearing a woman in Paris sing his praises in German. Men are easy to flatter, especially men in power,” she added, a bit bitter. “Once he’d had a few drinks, I offered to walk him back to his hotel.” Her breath caught. Her throat clenched as she forced down the emotions threatening to explode. Alice gripped the pillow in her lap as tight as she could. “Well, needless to say, he enjoyed the company that night. More than I did at any rate.” Her chest hurt. 

“Respirez, chérie,” Gene reminded her. 

Breathe. She glanced up at him and nodded. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “After he fell asleep, I was able to get at the plans. I grabbed them, left, and hoped I’d never see the man again. And I didn’t. But four days later a member of the SS identified me at La Maison Rouge and you know what happened there.”

“How’d you get out of Paris?” Ron asked her.

Alice nodded, flashing a tiny smile at the memory. “Germaine. The limping lady. La dame boiteuse.” At their confused expressions she laughed a little. “I don’t know her actual name. We called her Germaine. Allied spy, worked for the OSS. She had been tracking Shultz and found Robert and I in hiding that night. She helped get maquis groups organized and got us a way out of Paris. The Gestapo took a while to realize Marc hadn’t been acting alone.” She sighed. “Once we were in the Alps, I learned to shoot and found out I was damn good at it, too.”

“And you changed your name,” Harry inferred.

She nodded. “Yeah. Seemed a good idea.”

The room quieted again. No one really knew what to say, Alice included. She’d said her bit. They didn’t need to respond. But secretly Alice couldn’t help but feel proud at herself for getting through that without breaking down into tears or clamming up. The pride she felt spread all through her body and she loosened up a bit. She saw Gene nod to Dick.

“Right.” Dick nodded, pushing off from the door he’d been propped against. He looked at her closely. “You can stay. But lay off the cigarettes.”

Alice turned from Dick to Gene. He shot her a tiny smile to which she rolled her eyes. “I danced well enough for you?” she muttered.

Harry and Nixon both tried, and failed, to suppress the laughter at her estimation of what had happened. But Dick just shrugged. “I don’t want to pull you off the line. But I have to do what’s best for this whole Battalion.”

“Yeah,” said Alice. “Yeah I know.” 

It took only a few more beats of silence before she yawned and got up to go sleep. Gene moved out of the room with her. But just as she went to shut the door behind them, she smirked. Alice leaned back in. “Hey, Harry?” When he looked up, she added, “My favorite color’s pink.”

She left him snickering and flashed a smile at Nixon. Leaving them behind, suddenly she didn’t feel as numb. The men around her trusted her, and respected her enough not to let her past define her. And that thought helped. It didn’t repair the ache in her heart when she thought about her family, but it made her realize how fortunate she’d been to find a new one. And as much as a part of her wished she’d died alongside Bernadette, her mom, and her father, or her two brothers, she knew that they’d have yelled at her for even having that thought. No. She had to live because they could not.


	37. Chapter 37

**May 4th, 1945**

_Berchtesgaden, Bavaria, Germany_

* * *

“This is a bad idea.”

Alice stood with Johnny and Bull along the rocky mountain side of the road to Berchtesgaden. At her muttering, Bull snickered and Johnny just shook his head. The object of their concern was Chuck Grant, bazooka and all, taking aim at the landslide of boulders blocking their way. They’d been stuck for hours. Somewhere around hour three, Grant had gestured to his bazooka, and half a dozen men of Easy had encouraged him.

Bull shook his head and pulled out a cigar. He settled down on a fallen boulder just behind them to watch the scene unfold. Alice couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Dick, Nixon, and Harry all seemed entirely alright with Grant shooting off explosives at the pile of rubble. To the side, she saw Ron downright smiling.

“This is not going to end well,” she repeated. 

Bull took his cigar out for a moment. “Nope.”

She turned around and nodded at him. A call from the man next to Grant pulled her attention back. The corporal knelt down next to him. Grant pulled the bazooka up. A moment of hesitation followed. Then the wall of rocks exploded and the mountain shook.

But nothing moved.

Johnny sighed next to her. Across from them a bit closer to the jeeps, Alice watched Dick fold his arms across his chest and throw his head back. She could feel his frustration from where she stood. 

“We did call for engineers, right?” Johnny asked.

Alice rolled her eyes as he turned to him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she pointed to the rock pile. “Of course we did. They were supposed to be here over half an hour ago!” 

“Sounds like the Army,” Bull drawled.

Alice let out a scoff in agreement. She watched a couple men piling a dozen grenades in a pile on the rocks. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” As she considered yelling at them, the sound of jeep pulled her attention away. Colonel Sink rolled up. “Better go see what he wants,” she muttered to them. With a sharp laugh from Johnny and a grunt from Bull, she left them behind.

When she reached Dick, Nix, Harry, and Ron, Sink gave her a nod. He sucked on a cigar, watching as Grant readied his bazooka. Then he turned to Dick. “Gents, I just had a conversation with General Leclerc. He told me he was first into Paris and by God, he wanted to be first into Berchtesgaden.”

A massive boom and the mountain shook again as Grant’s bazooka round struck the grenades. Alice watched the smoke and dust rise and then settle. Sink smirked.

“I told him I understood his point,” he added. Another brief pause, and then he turned back to Dick. “Now you fire up 2nd Battalion and outflank that French son of a bitch.”

Dick grinned and nodded. “Yes sir!” He saluted.

The other four officers, smiles on their faces, added their own salutes. Sink just returned it with a smile and draw of his cigar. As the jeep backed up to head back down the road, Dick turned to Ron. He had moved forward, eagerly awaiting the command.

“I want Easy Company in the lead,” Dick said. “Have the men assemble down on the Autobahn.”

Ron tried, and failed, to suppress a smile. He nodded. “Yes sir!”

Alice watched in amusement as he moved down the road towards Easy Company. She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ron that excited in my life.”

Beside her, Nixon just snorted. “Seriously.”

“Right, you two hop in,” Dick ordered. “Let’s go.”

She hauled herself into the seat next to Harry in the back of the jeep while Nixon took the driver’s seat. Soon enough they were driving past the troop trucks. Alice watched Easy, Dog, and Fox clambering into their trucks with more enthusiasm than she recalled seeing in quite a while.

It took an hour for the whole battalion to ready themselves. But once Easy had set up in the lead, Nixon maneuvering their jeep to the front, Dick gave the order to advance. After a while, the closer they came to the actual town, Ron deployed many of the Toccoa men around the caravan to walk along either flank.

An eerie silence hung all around them. She’d expected to see something, someone when they approached the mountain town but instead all they saw were flags, some white, some white, red, and black. At the sight of the Nazi flags, Alice felt herself tensing from anger. Harry must’ve noticed, because she felt him lay a hand on her arm. She glanced at him, releasing a breath, and nodded.

Berchtesgaden really was beautiful. Tan and beige buildings, mossy green or pale red window shutters, balconies with intricately carved designs, it all screamed wealth. Alice wondered how much came from stolen riches. By the time they pulled inside, Ron had all the men walking with their rifles up and ready to shoot.

But nothing alive moved. At one point, Alice thought she heard the barking of a dog, but even that faded as they moved along. Eerie was the only word Alice could think of to describe it. It felt like walking into the belly of a sleeping beast. More and more white flags flapped in the wind as they drove past. To her right, when she could catch a glimpse between buildings, Alice’s breath caught at the sight of the Alps.

“Eerie,” Harry muttered. “There’s not even any natives.”

She looked at him, almost surprised to hear him echo her thoughts. But before she could respond, Nixon did it for her. “That’s cause this is the one town you can’t deny being a true Nazi.”

Harry turned to the right to look closer at some of the buildings. With a frown, he turned back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you have to be to live here.”

Dick interrupted them. “We need to find someplace we can put the Colonel.”

They fell quiet. But a tiny smirk grew on Nixon’s face as he spotted a massive hotel at the corner of the next turning. “How about right there,” he said. 

He pushed the jeep faster until they stood right before it. Thirty foot long Nazi flags hung down the front of the building, rustling in the wind. Berchtesgadener Hof. With the jeep turned off, they scuttled out. Alice stood and stared up at the entrance. Nixon placed a hand on her arm as he walked forward. She joined him.

Dark wood dominated the interior. Between the floors and half way up the walls above the height of a man, it darkened the whole area. In the lounge of the hotel, a man, a butler of sorts, busied himself behind a desk counter. Nixon went to him immediately, ordering him to drop the book he was carrying.

Alice followed more slowly. She stayed in the entrance area. While Harry and Dick went straight back through the lounge, and Nix stayed at the desk, she just waited. Her eyes took in every inch of the massive hotel. Nazi icons were displayed at every corner. Only when Ron brushed past her to get to Dick did she move. Alice followed him.

She found herself in a cavernous dining hall. Tables with silk coverings, crystal dishware, and unlit center candles stretched the length of the room. Above them hung crystal and bronze chandeliers. The mirrors on the wall were framed with excessive amounts of finely carved bronze or gold as well.

To the right she found Dick and Harry digging through some sort of leather case. She followed Ron to it. Something sparkly was probably inside because she watched him reach between the two officers.

“Don’t even think about it!” Harry growled, grabbing his arm mid motion.

Alice, who had moved to Dick’s other side, gaped at him. She willed herself not to laugh at the shock on Ron’s usually well-controlled expression. Ron glanced at Dick, but the man just shrugged. Borderline pouting, Ron moved off to other treasures, leaving the silverware behind.

At the entrance of an excited Alton More, she turned away from the pillaging officers. Her eyes caught a painting directly across from her, hanging in all its twisted glory from the wall. Adolf Hitler’s visage looked almost messianic in its disgusting flattery. Her hands clenched as she stared into the face of the man who had ruined her life.

“Major Winters. Sir.”

“More?”

“Permission to climb the mountain, sir? The Eagle’s Nest?”

Alice pulled herself out of her murderous musings to look at Sergeant More. He tried his best to suppress a smile, but she saw right through it. Dick watched him for a moment before turning to Harry. The other man looked in confusion at a piece of the flatware set.

“Harry,” he said. “Have F Company put a double guard on the hotel. Set up roadblocks on the west side of town. I want Battalion HQ to seal off the north side and prepare for prisoners.”

Harry nodded, turning serious at Dick’s orders. They still had work to do. The war hadn’t ended yet. Turning towards the door, he called out, “Sergeant Grant!”

“And Harry,” Dick added, “nobody gets hurt. Not now.”

Not now. Alice nodded to herself. In the silence, the sudden rip and thud of Ron tugging a Nazi flag off the wall made her jump. He sent her a smirk before turning back to Dick. “And Easy?”

Dick nodded. “Easy’ll head up the mountain through the Obersalzberg, and take the Eagle’s Nest.” 

Ron nodded back to him and then turned to More. The man didn’t even try to suppress his grin. Instead he just nodded, saluted, and hurried off back out into the streets. For a moment, Alice couldn’t help but watch with a smile herself as she saw his eagerness. 

“Alice, find Nix, I want you two to search and translate any documents you can find in these houses. Names, places, weapons details,” he ordered. “If it’s in German, I want to know what it says.”

“Right.”

Though it made her a bit sad to watch Easy Company rolling down the road without her, spirits high and shouting for joy as they raced the French to the Eagle’s Nest, she knew she had a job to do. While she stood on the sidewalk of the main road of Berchtesgaden Alice took several slow, deep breaths. The trucks rolled past without ceremony.

But before long, Alice found herself searching the residences for any sign of useful intel. She found a few logs, a diary written by a child, accounts of the visitors to Obersalzburg, but nothing else of much importance. Evidently the Nazis had tried their best to strip the area of anything useful. 

She went on with her work for hours. By the time the sun had started to set, she decided she had earned the right to stop. Alice tracked down Dick in the CP. He stood chatting with Harry in the lounge. When she walked in, they looked over at her and nodded.

“I want to go up there,” she said.

Dick met her gaze before offering her a small smile. “Yeah, I thought you might. Harry’s going up right now to relieve Lieutenant Foley.”

“Come on,” Harry said, grinning. “Let’s go see Hitler’s house.”

She broke out into a smile and nodded to Dick. In a moment of impulse, she offered him a salute. With Dick’s light laugh behind her, she hurried out with Harry into the twilight. The pink and purple sky began to deepen to black as they took the jeep through the guarded road towards the Eagle’s Nest, the Kehlsteinhaus. 

They reached the mountaintop mansion as the last rays of light sank below the horizon. Harry told her to go look around while he tracked down Foley. She wasted no time.

Her first thought upon entering was just how incredible the main room must’ve been in daylight with its massive windows. Janovec stood guard with Garcia. Both nodded to her, faces alight with smiles. To her right down the few steps, a fireplace so large it could’ve held an entire chopped down tree had been lit, roaring in the area to keep the guards warm. The couch-like chairs around a low coffee table had grey and gold floral prints. Three round tables had matching dining chairs, as well. Alice couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so beautiful in her entire life.

Two green, empty bottles of champagne lay on one of the tables. She looked at them in amusement. Someone had had fun. After staring out the windows for a few minutes, Alice looked to her left. A stairwell led up, off into the rest of the Kehlsteinhaus. She hesitated only briefly before taking them up.

She was rewarded with a hallway open to the outside on the right. A low stone wall that went to about her knee stood peppered every eight feet or so with a column that soared to a ceiling about fifteen feet up. On the edge of the mountain, Alice felt her breath hitch. In the dark, Alice could see the lights of Berchtesgaden down below and the moon high in the sky above the mountains. A light breeze filled the tunnel, blowing her hair to the right. She couldn’t help but smile.

She was on top of the world. In the C-47s on D-Day, she’d been in the sky, but the lights she’d seen then were the fiery explosions of 88s and raging, dying airplanes. Here the lights were of all the lands she’d helped win back. For a while, Alice stood to one of the columns, content to stare off into the peaceful night. They hadn’t won yet. But in her heart, Alice knew they would.

Footsteps on the stone steps to her right made Alice turn some time later. She smiled when she found Nixon holding a bottle of champagne. He smirked at her, holding it up. 

“Spoils of war,” she joked.

He chuckled. “Something like that. Pawned it off Harry.”

Alice let out a small laugh. She shook her head and turned from the wide world below them. She leaned against the column and watched him. Her breath caught at the way the light caught him. The overwhelming desire to be near him filled her, a deep burning in her entire body. She couldn’t breathe.

After a moment he turned back to her from where he’d been looking out at the night. She felt her heart rate skyrocket. She couldn’t catch her breath, and when he moved a bit closer, she had to bite her cheek. It surprised her when he seemed to hesitate for a moment. Nixon rarely second-guessed himself. So she grabbed his hand.

Whatever spell he’d been under broke immediately. In a moment that Alice thought would make her chest burst, their lips met. She shuddered at the touch. She didn’t want it to end, ever, the sense of security and belonging and love that it brought her. But she gasped for breath and broke apart.

Through shuddered breaths, she chuckled. “What happened to talking first?”

He just smirked back down at her. This time when he kissed her, it was harder. She couldn’t help but smile into it. With her back pressed firmly against the stone column, she just reveled in the joy of knowing that Lewis Nixon was there and he was hers. She knew she loved him. And as his hand went to her neck, warm on her skin, she just tried desperately not to have a heart attack or groan too loudly.

“You two may want to be more discreet, just for Dick’s sake.”

Alice gasped as Nixon broke away. Harry stood smirking at the top of the stairs, holding an open bottle of champagne and watching them in amusement. He laughed at them. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” Nixon muttered, panting. But he stepped back from Alice and took in their surroundings. “Couldn’t have waited another thirty seconds!”

“Better me than the enlisted,” he reminded them.

Alice hid her face for a moment, trying to suppress a laugh at the downright ridiculousness of the whole situation. As she attempted to get her body back to a normal, not shaking level of happiness, Nixon opened his own champagne bottle and downed a large drink. When he finished, he offered it to her.

“Cheers,” he said, winking.

Alice grinned again and grabbed it from him. “To what we’ve lost, and what we’ve gained.”

Nixon just nodded at her with a small smile, but Harry raised his own bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”

The bubbles of the champagne fizzled in her mouth as she downed it. Before long, she could feel it going to her extremities, a warmth and a joy that she’d not felt since before D-Day. On the top of the Eagle’s Nest, Nixon at her side, Alice felt almost invincible. For the first time she began to think that maybe all the suffering, all the pain, maybe it had all been worth it in the end.


	38. Chapter 38

Alice could not sleep. No matter how hard she tried to tell herself to just lay in the bed, close her eyes, and drift off, she couldn’t. The bottle of champagne completely out of her system, now all Alice could do was feel the buzz of excitement remembering kissing Nix. And as much as she hated feeling like a lovesick adolescent, she did.

After a huge yawn, she threw the covers off and swung her legs off the bed. They’d quickly had to stifle any sort of further romantic actions when Dick had joined them with Talbert. Not that Dick couldn’t handle the sight of his two friends kissing, but he did not need that added stress. The less he knew the better. And while they were sure he’d suspect it before long, he wouldn’t be required to report suspected behavior to Sink.

She leaned over to the side table and flipped on the lamp. Her eyes squeezed shut against the sudden light. Figuring it would be poor form to walk around the entrance level of the hotel in just her shorts that were as short as the ones from PT in Toccoa, she begrudgingly pulled on her pants. Throwing her tan shirt on, she didn’t bother to button it over her tank top. 

Her boots made her footfalls louder than she’d have liked as she snuck out into the hall of the second level. Pulling the door closed as quietly as he could, Alice pocketed the key and moved to the stairs. When she reached the lounge, it didn’t surprise her to find a couple of the men on guard at the front door. It did surprise her, though, to find it was Perco and Malarkey, with George standing between them smoking a cigarette.

“You guys took an early shift,” she said. When they all turned to her in surprise, she just smiled and joined them. “Figured you’d stick the replacements with the bad shifts.”

Perco snorted. “Yeah, we did. Until Lip got word of it and told Tab he had to spread it equally.”

The laughter escaped from her before she could suppress it. Malarkey and Perconte both glared at her. But George just looked at her more closely and shook his head. “You look happy.”

“We just captured the Kehlsteinhaus, of course I’m happy,” she pointed out. “Why, are you sad?”

George scoffed. He passed her a cigarette which she took gladly. “It’s only that? Nothing else?”

“Like what?” Alice forced herself to remain neutral, unaffected. But based on the smirk growing on George’s face, he saw right through her.

“I don’t know, you and Cap’n Nixon been spending a lot of time together.”

Alice rolled her eyes and huffed. She ignored the snickering of Perco and Malark and instead just shook her head. “Ok, even if there was something going on which is entirely hypothetical, why would I tell you, George?”

“Cause I’m your best friend,” he quipped.

“Really?” She smirked as well. “I don’t know.” Alice threw her arm around Perconte’s shoulders. With a win smile, she looked between him and George. “I think I like Frank more.”

“Thanks,” Perco said. “It’d mean more if ya meant it, though.”

Malarkey and George started cracking up as he shoved her off. With a huff, she removed her arm. She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to take a walk.”

“Hey! Not by yourself,” protested George. 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t walk with me to pester me.”

But Malarkey jumped in. “You can’t go by yourself.”

“Yeah, I’ll come.” George saw her ready to object, but he cut her off. The look he sent her was devoid of any humor. “Listen, lot ‘a the guys have been drinking. You’re not walkin’ around by yourself.”

For a moment she just looked at him, and then between Perconte and Malarkey. They looked just as serious. It touched her, their concern. So she just nodded. “Right. Ok.”

Once George finished his cigarette and tossed it outside on the steps, they moved out into the street. Alice yawned again. For a moment they just stood out in the open air. It was almost 0300 already. The moon had dipped towards the horizon line. They started down the road, unhurried.

“So, hypothetically speaking of course,” George started, “if there were something going on between you and Cap’n Nixon, I would very much like to know. I may, hypothetically, have a decent amount of money riding on the outcome of this entirely hypothetical prospect.”

She wished she could say she was surprised. But Alice just shook her head and turned to him. He sent her an innocent smile. “And who, hypothetically of course, is involved in this betting pool and what, pray tell, is the bet?”

“Just one other person,” he said. “Bill Guarnere.”

Alice spun to look at him in surprise. The innocent grin turned into a devilish smirk as he turned from her to the road ahead. Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head. “This hypothetical bet. What is it?”

“Bill said you two would get together before the war ended,” he explained. “I said you’d wait.”

“How much did you have riding on this bet?” 

“Fifty dollars.”

Alice smiled. She shook her head, hands in the pockets of her shirt. With a small hum, she said, “Well, sorry to tell you this. But you owe Bill a whole lot of money.”

He paused in his step and turned to her. His shock morphed into a grin. “You serious?” He laughed before she could answer. “I knew it.”

“Why’d you bet against it, then?” she asked.

“Well, I figured I’d get in less trouble for picking after the war.” George started snickering again and shook his head. “I knew it. As soon I saw you walk down those stairs.”

She shook her head. Moving to walk in front of him, she turned and went backwards. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

As George fiddled with the new cigarette he’d lit, he turned surprisingly serious. After a large inhale of the smoke, he released before answering. “You haven’t looked that happy since before D-Day.”

Alice stopped walking. For a moment she just stood beneath an overhanging balcony. Her smile fell, not from sadness but more from a realization that what he said was true. So she just nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Course I’m right.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “So, when did you two set up this bet?”

George paused. He looked a bit sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck as his cigarette dangled from his mouth. “As soon as we got back to England after D-Day.”

“Holy shit, George.” She spun on him. 

“We started out just betting fifteen a piece,” he admitted. “We raised the bet a couple of times. And technically, Bill only gets forty. The other ten goes to Lieutenant Welsh.”

Alice choked on the last of her cigarette smoke. “What?”

George couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Welsh caught Bill and I talkin’ about it one day. Got on our asses about speaking about it in places other people would hear. We all mutually agreed that he’d get ten from the winner’s pot for keeping his knowledge of the bet quiet.”

“I do not believe it,” she muttered. “Well, make sure you send Bill the forty in your next letter, because I sure as hell am going to pretend like I knew none of this. Well, except with Harry.” Alice imagined all the ways she could make him pay. “I don’t know what surprises me more, that you bribed Harry, or that Harry let you bribe him.”

“Hey hey! It ain’t a bribe,” George protested. “It was mutual assurance.”

“It was a fucking bribe, George.”

As they drew near the Berchtesgaden Hof, having crossed the street and turned around several minutes prior, he just chuckled. Alice’s cigarette had burned out a while before, and his second had started waning. Standing off to the side, out of earshot of Perco and Malark, he stood finishing it.

“You mad?” he asked.

She looked at him. “About the hypothetical bet?” When he broke out into a grin, she shook her head. “Slightly. But I’m not entirely surprised, I suppose. Besides, you lost, so I feel a bit better.”

“Hey!”

Alice snickered. Giving him a quick pat on the arm, she moved back towards the entrance. The walk had helped. Her mind had cleared, maybe from the cigarette, maybe from the fresh air. After telling both Malarkey and Perconte goodnight, she moved through the lobby into the dining room in the hopes of finding a drink.

For the second time that night, Alice wished what she found would’ve surprised her. It did not. Nixon sat at one of the tables, glass of scotch, or maybe whiskey, in front of him. He didn’t hear her stop at the door, leaning against the corner of the door frame to look into the exquisite dining room. He scribbled at a sheet of paper in front of him, face drawn in concern.

Suddenly George popped up next to her. He looked between her and the busy Nixon, smirking. But she just sighed, silently, and pointed from George to Malark and Perco. He got the message. Patting her on the back of her shoulder, he moved back over to them to start up a conversation. Alice hoped it’d keep them distracted.

She moved over to his table and pulled out a chair. When he looked up, he sent her a smirk. Her breath hitched, but she forced her desire down. Nixon’s smirk lacked some of the usual humor.

“Blanche?” she asked.

His smile dropped instantly. Nixon put down the pencil and stared at the pages. “Yeah.”

“She’s not doing well,” she said. When he shook his head, Alice frowned. She watched as he down the rest of his glass of alcohol. “How’s your mother?”

He sighed again, leaning back in his chair. “Doing her best. She’s not too happy about Kathy asking for divorce, or me for accepting it,” he added. “My dad though.” Nixon shook his head. “He’s downright pissed. According to my mom, he got drunk and broke a window in the New York house.”

“I’m sorry.” Alice watched him, could see him thinking through a million different things.

Nixon chuckled. With a shrug, he refilled his glass. “Yeah well. Not your fault my family’s a mess.”

Silence fell between them again. She sat back in her chair. She knew it wasn’t her fault; they’d been very careful not to let their relationship develop into anything questionable, and from what she’d learned over the year they’d been at war, Nixon’s father had always been a bit on the volatile side. Blanche had been getting worse emotionally since the war began. That had been Nix’s biggest concern whenever he talked about home. 

She watched his jaw clench, his shoulders tighten. Alice grabbed his hand. “Listen to me, Nix. I know quite a bit about messes,” she reminded him. Her breathing faltered. A half laugh-half cry escaped her. “I’m a mess. But the one thing I’ve learned in the past three years is that being a mess doesn’t mean you can’t get better. Blanche is just going through a rough time. She’ll be okay.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. He downed another drink. “It’s a fucking mess.”

“Nix, for almost three years of my mess, you were there. The whole damn time,” she added, struggling to keep her tears back. “Three years. And the whole time, you were there knowing it would end when the war ended. And you were still there.” Alice gripped his hand tighter, struggling between looking at him and looking at the floor. “Even when I screamed at you for digging through my files, to protect me- from myself!” She nodded. “So we’ll help Blanche. You will, and I will.”

“God I love you.”

Alice looked at him, eyes wide. His own face mirrored the shock she felt. For a moment, Alice felt like her heart stopped. She sputtered out a barely coherent response. “I know. I mean- I suspected, guessed really. Scheisse.” Alice grabbed her face. “I mean- ah fuck. I love you too.”

“I know,” Nixon said, laughing. He sipped at his drink. “To be honest, I didn’t think I’d hear you say it though. Being a mess and all.”

She smacked his arm, hard. “Hey!”

He snickered behind his glass of alcohol. For a moment, Alice sat back in her chair and just watched him. She could still hear mumbles of Perco, George, and Malarkey talking out in the hall. Her watch read almost 0500. She sighed. “You should sleep. Write the letter tomorrow, ok? I’ll help.” Pushing herself from the table, she pointed behind herself to the hall.

Nixon sighed. But he got up as well, gathering the half-written letter in his hands. Nixon grabbed her wrist when she went to walk away. “Thank you.”

Alice smirked. She kept her voice low and added, “There’s something I didn’t think I’d hear you say. Being an arrogant, rich jerk-”

He kissed her so fast that Alice nearly gasped. The rest of her sentence left her mind as she pushed back with equal force. She could taste the alcohol he’d been drinking. “Damnit,” she muttered, pulling herself away against her better judgement. Though it hurt, she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Sleep! Nix you need to sleep.”

With a sigh, and a nod, Nixon let go of her hand. “Right. Sleep.”

She couldn’t help but smirk as he wandered through the dining hall back into the lounge. She’d only been joking when she’d bragged that someday he’d be taking orders from her. And yet here it was. Alice couldn’t stop herself from chuckling as she finished the glass of scotch on the table. For a moment, she actually forgot about the war. And maybe that was the greatest gift that could be given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanche Nixon died by suicide in 1955 from severe depression, age 32. She was found with a self-inflicted gunshot wound by Nix's then wife, and Lewis.
> 
> Stanhope Nixon (their father) was arrested for assault (and almost killing) a man after getting severely drunk. He lived in a house in New York while his wife and daughter Blanche shared a house in San Francisco.
> 
> My portrayal of the Nixon family is based on newspaper articles I've found about the family and other historical records, then extrapolating.


	39. Chapter 39

**May 7th, 1945**

As it turned out, neither of them had time to write letters or do much of anything that day, or the next. Nixon was called away by Sink for a while as the Battalion s-2, something about the war rapidly changing. They didn't see much of him until the seventh. When he did show back up, he and Harry decided they needed to plunder more champagne. Alice left them to their search.

She sat in the dining hall, glass of water on her right and fresh paper in front of her. Millie had written her again, a lovely bit about Bill and Joe and going on about Percy's latest escapades. Finally with a moment free, Alice sat to reply. She knew Millie would want to know about herself and Nix, but how to put it into words failed her.

When Lipton walked in on her, she had sat back in her chair and laid her pencil down. She frowned. But upon catching sight of him, she forced a smile. "You wouldn't happen to know where I can get some decent food, do you? I could really do with something other than army food."

Lipton laughed and shook his head. "If I knew where that was, I'd be there myself."

Alice laughed at his statement. "Fair. Well, let's go find some." She stood from the table, pushing the chair in and downing the last bit of her glass of water. Her pencil and the papers went into her pants pocket.

As she joined Lip and they walked towards the lobby, loud footsteps echoed in front of them. Dick stopped in the doorway, smiling as he looked at them. They stopped in their tracks.

"We just got some news I think you may want to hear," he said. He grinned again, flashing them a small sheet of paper.

"You know where I can find a really nice sandwich?" Alice guessed.

Dick shook his head, laughing. "No. Better." They waited for him to go on, so he unfolded the paper and nodded. "All troops, stand fast on present positions." He paused for a moment. Glancing up, he smiled. "The German army has surrendered."

Alice stared at him. She could hear Lip talking, but couldn't comprehend. What had Dick just said? Did she hear him right? What? "What?"

"Alice, the war in Europe, it's over," Dick repeated, grinning. "It's over."

It was over.

The war was over.

The death, the blood shed.

It was over.

Before she could stop it, she sobbed. Alice covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the cries. It felt like she'd had a dozen glasses of champagne. Her body buzzed. Her head and chest burned as she couldn't breathe. Alice sank to the ground. Her knees hit the floor with a bang. She didn't notice.

With the sheer amount of emotions shooting through her, Alice couldn't speak. She held her face in her hands, trying desperately to stop her crying. But the realization that it was done, it was over, it was finished sent wave after wave of elation through her body. They'd won. France was free. Germany would be free. Her people would be free.

"Alice, breathe!"

At Dick's firm command, she struggled to do just that. As she calmed down, she could feel the pressure of Lipton's hand on her shoulder blade. When she managed to force her eyes open, wiping the tears away with her sleeve, she looked at Dick. He had crouched in front of her, looking concerned. Lipton was on her right, hand firmly pressed against her back.

"It's over?" she choked out. Her breathing faltered as she tried, desperately, to control her sobs. Just past Dick, she could see other people but with her tears she couldn't make them out.

Dick nodded. He grabbed her arm. "Yeah. Yeah it's over."

The war, at least in Europe, was done.

It took her another minute for her legs to regain stability and not feel like jelly. Once she had her breathing more under control, Alice nodded to both of them. She assured them she was okay. With Lip's help, she stood up.

She glanced at the men behind Dick. He followed her gaze. They looked scared. Alice realized they'd probably never seen that much emotion from her, ever. Her eyes locked with George. He watched her closely.

Dick sighed, but he still had a smile on his face. He turned to the men, most of whom were Easy's NCOs. With a small laugh, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Just got the official word. Germany's surrendered. It'll be official after midnight."

A moment of silence interrupted only by Alice's labored breathing followed. Then it hit them. At once, disbelieving laughter and hugs erupted from all of them. Before they could get too far, though, Dick called them back.

"We're heading to Austria in the morning. Be responsible!" he added.

Most of the men rushed out of the hotel. Alice guessed they'd be partying for quite a while. As Dick left the room, though, he patted George on the shoulder. When she saw him, Alice grinned and burst into tears. She grabbed him into a hug.

"We did it," she sobbed. "George we made it."

"Damn right." He grabbed her tight in a hug. He could feel her shaking and, if he was honest with himself, he was shaking right along with her. Shutting his eyes, he just reveled in the fact that they'd finally, finally won. At least, they'd won in Europe.

She pulled away after a minute, trying to reclaim composure. It didn't take long before George grabbed Lip in a hug too. Then it was her turn. Pretty soon Alice's tears were replaced by sheer excitement. The three of them moved out into the lobby. Soon enough, Dick rejoined them, sending several officers of 2nd Battalion out into Berchtesgaden. George left them to talk.

"It would seem that Harry, Ron, and Nix are currently at the Eagle's Nest," he said. Though he tried to act annoyed, his grin erased all hope of that. "Think they'd want to hear the news?"

Alice laughed and beside her, Lipton just smirked. With a gesture for them to follow, Dick led the way out into the street. The officers' jeeps were parked not far away. He had them both get in.

The drive passed mostly in silence. All sorts of emotions circulated through her, not only in her mind but she could feel it. A bit of anger, resentment for the ones who hadn't made it. Sadness, for the time lost. But overwhelming joy as well, a sort of sweet serenity, a knowledge that they'd won. At a great cost, yes, but they'd still won.

And even though the thought lingered in the back of her mind that the war in the Pacific still raged, she tried to force that away. Alice wanted one day to revel in the calm and the bliss. If they went to the Pacific, Alice knew she would not. The Army had no use for her there. So for now, she would enjoy her friends.

When the jeep pulled up to the Eagle's Nest, Babe and Garcia stood on either side of the door. Babe leaned against the wall, rifle leaning up against his leg. At the sight of the jeep both he and Garcia straightened up to attention. Alice tried to suppress a laugh at their actions.

"At ease," Dick assured them.

They nodded. Following Dick and Lipton, Alice trailed behind. She wondered how long it would be for all the enlisted to find out. She had a feeling once they'd told the officers, Dick would be fine with her spreading the good news to the rest of the men. When she walked into the main room where light streamed through the windows, she paused. Memories of a few nights ago rushed back in. Heat rose to her cheeks and a bright smile followed. Finally she forced her feet to keep moving as she dashed after them.

When they reached the top of the stairs out onto the balcony walkway, she could hear and then see Harry, Nixon, and Ron sitting on some wooden chairs. Three, no four, bottles of champagne lay and or sat around them. The spoils of war.

"Hey Adolf! Love your Eagle's Nest," Harry drawled.

The sheer amount of alcohol they must've downed to make them as drunk they seemed made Alice grin like an idiot. Harry and Ron were by far the worst off. The latter sat slightly hunched over, only turning and greeting Lip with a smile for a moment before settling back into an empty stare. Harry, in contrast, had leapt up, wobbling, and moved to stand before Dick. Behind Ron, laying back with his hands behind his head, Nixon watched them all in amusement. When he saw her walk in, Nixon just grinned. He at least had his wits about him.

"I hope you don't mind. We made ourselves at home," added Harry, snickering. "Love what you've done with the place." Reaching behind himself, Harry grabbed a bottle of champagne. He thrust it at Dick. "Hey, here, take a drink. Just so we can says we saw you do it."

After watching Nixon down another long drink straight from a half-empty champagne bottle, Dick just shook his head with a laugh. He pushed the bottle back towards Harry. Not too cut up, the man just slipped another drink for himself.

"Listen up! Just came in from the Corps." He glanced up briefly. Then he returned his attention to the paper. "Effective immediately. All troops stand fast on present positions."

Alice nearly burst out laughing at the way Harry attempted, dramatically, to stand at attention. When Dick glanced at him, though, he started snickering. Nixon just assured him with all the drunk sarcasm he was capable of that he was, in fact, standing fast. Ron muttered something incomprehensible.

Content to stand and watch the joy that would soon erupt from her friends, Alice hid her smile with her hand as best she could. Beside her, Lipton turned from the drunk men to her. She nodded to him. He nodded back with a smile.

"Do you wanna hear it?" Dick asked, grinning. When Harry nodded, he started laughing at him again. With a pat on Harry's shoulder, he shook his head. "Yeah? Are you ready for it? Listen up. The German army surrendered."

Silence. The three drunk men moved as one though, all of them straightening up. The humor evaporated. But Dick just smiled, and Alice felt tears in her eyes again. After several beats, Dick gently smacked Harry in the face a few times to snap him out of it. As Harry regained focus, Dick laughed and turned to Nixon.

"I've got a present for you. Come on." He pointed to the way out. But as Nixon gathered himself, Dick turned to Alice. "I promise to bring him back."

She burst out laughing and nodded. "Go."

Nixon looked at her for a moment, but he had to hurry after Dick who seemed to be a man on a mission. Alice grinned after him. When he disappeared back down the stairs, she turned back to the other three. Harry grabbed Lipton in a hug. On the lounge chair, Ron had sunk over, head in his hands. Stepping over to him, she crouched down and lay a hand on Ron's back.

"You're going to regret this tomorrow," she joked.

He mumbled something she couldn't make out. When she asked him, Ron scoffed, sitting up further. He looked a bit more sober, probably from the shock of the news. Shaking his head, he swayed where he sat. "I already regret it."

She chuckled and rubbed his back for a moment. But before long, Harry had grabbed her hand and pulled her up into a hug. She laughed into the embrace.

"You won," he said.

But she just shook her head. "No. We won."

When they broke apart, he just nodded. Then he sunk down into the chair behind him, head in his hands. Alice turned to Lipton and suggested they get them both back to the hotel. Through his chuckles, he agreed.

It took some effort. Once they'd pushed Ron into the passenger seat of the jeep he'd take up earlier, Alice climbed into the back and dragged Harry with her. He started joking that she reminded him of first Doris Day, later Olivia de Havilland, and then the most common comparison she got, Marlene Dietrich. Alice laughed him off.

When Lip pulled up to the front of the hotel, she scrambled out of the jeep and away from the drunken officers. With a smirk, she grabbed Harry by the arm and hauled him out. She pushed him forward and he stumbled slightly. Lip assured her he'd get them both to sober up or go to bed, so she stayed where she was out front of the hotel.

It didn't take long for Alice to decide to head to Easy's CP. It was only about three minutes down the road. Along the way, she found celebrating men chatting and laughing with not a care in the world. Upon reaching the building where Easy had set up, Alice didn't knock. She swung it open. A half dozen friendly faces turned to look at her. She didn't say anything, just grinned.

Talbert grinned. He shouted her way. "There she is!"

"Does Tab get a dance now?" Perco asked.

With a laugh, Alice moved into the room. It took zero time for Talbert to pull her into a hug which she gladly returned. "Sure, Tab. You'll get a dance."

"Now we really did win," he joked.

Hugs went all around. She even insisted on giving hugs to the more touch-averse in the group, like Johnny and Bull. Before long, she sat on a couch celebrating with Lieb, Perco, Talbert, Johnny, Bull, Grant, Ramirez, Alley, and eventually George. With George came three bottles of champagne. They went on for hours.

But one face was noticeably missing from the festivities, one person who usually wouldn't hesitate to engage in such fun. Once they were thoroughly occupied with their drinks, she went through the house to see if she could find him. She found him at a desk in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

"Hey, Malark," she said, smiling. He glanced up. The forced smile he sent her made her pause. Alice moved inside and shut the door. "Not in the mood to throw a party?"

He chuckled, sitting back in his chair and putting the pencil down. With a yawn, he shook his head. "I was trying to write a letter." After hesitating, he looked at her again. "To Faye."

The happiness in the room evaporated immediately. Knowing that she wasn't allowed to correspond with anyone outside of those who already knew about her had kept Alice from having to wrestle with the emotions of that particular prospect. Malark had no such excuse to avoid it, though.

"I wrote her a few times, after uh." He paused, looking down. "But I haven't in a while." After another few moments of silence, he got up and moved over to the window. He moved the sheer curtain and looked down. "Well."

Alice moved to him and grabbed him in a hug. He stiffened at the touch at first. But it didn't take long for him to release the tension and accept the embrace. She held back her own tears for his sake. They stayed there, Alice offering him as much comfort as she could and he would accept.

"We have to live for them, right?" she said, voice soft. "We live for them because that's what they'd want."

He pulled apart from the embrace and nodded. "Right. Yeah."

"They're downstairs," she said. Alice smiled at him sadly. "If you want to join, that is."

Malarkey sighed. He glanced from the door to the blank pages on his desk. But he finally nodded. "Okay."

Together they headed back down the two flights of stairs. The Toccoa men were still drinking and laughing in the living room, perched on couches and tables and chairs. Though they protested her leaving, she just shook her head and smiled, insisting she had more to do. With Alley and Liebgott heckling her for being a lightweight, she closed the door and walked into the street.

Across from the door, sitting along the side of the road in front of a one-time cafe, she found Spina drinking from a champagne bottle, Gene beside him. For the first time in a very long time, they both smiled. Alice crossed the street and joined them.

"To winning!" Spina said, laughing. He raised his champagne bottle into the air. "And to never having to touch another goddamn bandage again."

"I'll drink to that," Alice teased.

Spina got the hint and passed her the bottle. The fizziness made her cough, but she enjoyed it all the same. Then she passed it to Gene. With a smirk, he took it and did the same.

"You two deserve more champagne than anyone else," Alice told them, voice devoid of humor. "Enjoy this. The company would be nothing without you."

Neither of them responded, not verbally. But Spina, who had taken the bottle back, raised it to her and nodded. Leaving them to their own celebration, she made her way back to the hotel. The sun had set and she found herself beyond grateful that Easy Company had spared their rations for her early.

The lounge and dining hall were filled with officers from 2nd Battalion when she walked into the Berchtesgadener Hof. It caused her to pause for a moment, searching for any of her friends. None of them caught her eye. With a sigh, a bit exhausted from the insanity of the day, Alice took the stairs up. She couldn't suppress her yawning.

It took a minute to move through the hall until she found her door. She fumbled through her pocket for the key. She frowned. It wasn't in the pocket she remembered. With a groan, she began to search through her other ones. Finally her hands found it in one of her inner pockets and she grinned. It unlocked the door.

"Happy VE-Day."

"Shit!" Alice jumped at Nixon's whisper in her ear. Whipping around, she tried to catch her breath against the wall. "Goddamnit!"

But he just laughed at her. "Didn't think you scared that easily."

Alice rolled her eyes. "What did Dick have for you?" she asked. Still leaning against the wall, she cocked her head and watched him start grinning. "That good, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that good." But then he smirked. "But I've seen better."

Alice couldn't help the smirk that spread across her own face. She tried to suppress it. She couldn't. Most of the space between them had disappeared. The familiar warmth of being that close to him spread through her again. When he kissed her, she closed her eyes. How the hell he managed to make her turn into an emotional mess with little more than a look, she had no idea. Whatever the reason, Nix managed to make her body go haywire much more than her previous relationships. She couldn't even think. Every feeling, every longing she'd pushed down and locked away while Kathy was in the picture wanted out.

As the kiss deepened, she groaned. On instinct, she moved her head to make it easier. She had to bite her cheek to suppress a hiss. "Nix, not out here, damnit. You have such poor judgement!"

"This is a surprise?" he joked. But he lowered his voice. "Wait. Is that an invite?"

Was it? The war was over, her war at least. But Alice realized that Nixon's war hadn't ended. The fight in the PTO still raged. No one knew how long they'd have before the 101st left for the Pacific, leaving her behind. She made the decision then and there that she would enjoy this moment. Because who knew if they'd have any more.

She pulled him into a kiss and pushed him through the open door. He had already started unbuttoning his shirt by the time the door slammed shut. Alice wasted no time in following.


	40. Chapter 40

Alice woke up at the first light of the sun. She could hear someone down the hall running a shower. Closer to home, the ticking of a clock and the breathing of Nix to her right made the only noise in the otherwise dark and quiet room. Shifting her arm out from under the sheets, Alice pushed her hair out of her face. With a small yawn, Alice shifted in the bed to sit up.

The clock read 0620 hours. Through the window, she could see the beginning of dawn. With a last look at Nix’s peaceful face, she slipped out of the bed. She knew he’d need to get up as soon as possible; they’d be leaving for Austria by 0800. As quiet as she could, Alice slipped into her clothes for the day. Soon she stood at the window, watching as enlisted men moved about on the road below. 

She regretted nothing about the night before. Alice had reached the point where she was done waiting. Every day that passed had led to death and turmoil. With the war in Europe over, she started to wonder how long with Easy Company she had left. Did she even have any days left to just celebrate with the survivors? 

Her usefulness had come to an end. If the Americans decided she’d finished her task, then she’d have to decide where to go. Nix had another half of the war to fight. She did not.

Paris would be the obvious choice. She knew that Jean-Luc and Marie would open their flat to her, or maybe she and Juliette could find their own. She could try to finish school. But every time she thought about Paris, a deep ache formed in her chest. Paris reminded her more and more of loss, between her family and Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle living in that city again.

Alice figured Millie would welcome her back in Aldbourne. That made the most sense. Alice supposed she could get a job at a bar or a shop in the town, help support the Bratts in exchange for lodging. But again, Aldbourne was full of ghosts now. All she wanted to do was go somewhere where she’d never really have to think of the war again. Unfortunately, nowhere like that remained.

With the war in Europe over, Alice wondered if maybe the Army would lax their insistence that her job be kept secret. If that were the case, maybe she could take her savings from the war and go live somewhere in America. But she couldn’t go alone.

Alice sighed. Looking out over the street, she tried to let the sunlight sink into her skin, warm her. She closed her eyes. Her life had changed in many ways over the course of a single day. Maybe the sun would make her feel better.

“What time is it?”

At Nixon’s half-coherent mumbling, she turned around. Alice smiled at him as his eyes scrunched against the sunlight that fell his way when she moved. His peaceful expression when he slept morphed into one of annoyance as he had to get up.

“0645,” Alice told him. “Come on. I’d rather have you out of the room before Dick knocks on it or something.”

“Don’t want to be seen with me?” he joked.

Alice laughed under her breath. She moved from the window over to the bed and sat down. “No. But I don’t want to be the one responsible for you getting a dishonorable discharge.”

“Oh, right, that.” He yawned again, sitting up in the bed but still under the sheets and blanket. “Dick wouldn’t do that. Trust me.”

She just hummed in agreement. But Alice wasted no time in opening the window curtains further and flooding the room with light. Nix gave an almost imperceptible groan, but he got the message. It didn’t take him long to get ready once he’d rolled out of bed.

“Uh oh.” Nixon looked at her, suppressing a small smile. As he tied up his jump boots, he nodded to her. “You’re thinking about something.”

Alice narrowed her eyes and turned back to him. Her arms were across her chest and she’d been staring out the window again. “What?”

“You’ve done the exact same thing every time you get stressed and start thinking too hard,” he explained. “You’ve done it since Toccoa. So what are you thinking about?”

With a sigh, she walked a bit away from the window. “My part of the war’s over, Nix.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that means I have to figure out what to do now,” she muttered. 

Nixon frowned. He began lacing up his second boot. “You’re not being sent off yet.”

“No, I know. But it could be any time,” she explained. Alice shook her head.

With a quick shake of his head, Nixon refused to entertain the thought. He looked at her. “For all we know, Sink’ll have jobs for you for the next several months!”

“And if he doesn’t?” she protested.

“Jesus, we just won! Can’t we at least enjoy it,” he muttered. Nixon shook his head. “Come on. Think about the look on Dick’s face when he finds out about us,” he suggested. The grin on his face only grew as he thought about it. “I need to be there.”

Alice couldn’t help but laugh even as she rolled her eyes. “He won’t be surprised.” Throwing her extra clothes into her duffel bag, she tried to get herself put together for the day. 

“No, but I can’t wait for the ‘be responsible’ lecture,” he reminded her. He pushed himself off the bed and went to the window to look out. 

“Speaking of being responsible,” Alice said, “you need to get back to your own room.”

Nixon huffed and turned back to her from the window. Instead of moving towards the door, though, he just sat against the window and watched her. Alice could feel his gaze. After a minute of silence, she just shook her head. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re pretty.” Nixon muttered. He wrestled his flask from his pocket and took a drink of whatever was in it.

Alice snorted. “I’ll admit, I feel a lot prettier now that we have showers and warm beds and food.” She sat down on the bed to readjust her boot. It dug into her a bit too tight. “I may still be a mess, but at least I look less like one than in a foxhole.”

But Nixon shook his head. He fell quiet for a moment. Then he smirked. “No. Not your hair. You. You’re smart. Too smart, honestly. It’s not fair. Not to mention you care about everyone-”

“Why the compliments?” she asked, voice soft. Alice stopped her moving about the room and watched him. 

He stopped smiling. His humor evaporated in an instant. Nixon looked away. Then he sighed. “I don’t think you hear it enough. Sometimes you remind me of Blanche. She doesn’t know what she means to people. I do my best to remind her.” With a bitter scoff, he looked back at her. “I just haven’t been able to say it to you, since we were being responsible.”

Alice flashed him a sad smile. She moved over to the windowsill and sat against it next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I never asked. But how did Blanche take the divorce?”

“She’s worried about how our father’s going to react,” he said. “But I think she’s secretly glad that it’s almost like a bit of rebellion against our parents. She never really liked Kathy.”

They stayed quiet for a few more minutes. Enjoying each other’s close contact, neither moved. The clock ticked on nearby, the only other sound Nixon’s occasional drink from his flask. When the clock hit 0710, Alice sighed.

“Come on. You need to go pack.” 

Nixon nodded. “Yeah.” But he didn’t move. Lost in thought, he just stayed against the window and sipped at the flask.

“Nix,” she said. Alice walked back over to him. He seemed to be a mile away, the expression on his face reminiscent of the way he’d been acting in Sturzelberg. She sighed. “Nix, now you’re the one thinking too much.”

“The curse of being brilliant,” he teased. But he looked up at her and shrugged. Nix pushed off the window and winked. With a fake smile, he went to leave. “I’ll see you in Austria.”

She grabbed his arm. She frowned when he paused and looked her in the eyes. “Nix, you can talk to me. And as long as you want me here, I’ll be here.” After a pause, she forced herself to smile. “Don’t drink yourself to death without me. I think I’ve earned the right to some of your liquor.”

Nixon grinned. With a shake of his head, he just winked. Alice let him go. When the door to her room closed behind him, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as well. She sat back on the bed. Taking a few moments to just breathe and enjoy the sunlight streaming into the room, Alice relaxed. 

At 0730, she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed her bag and helmet. Before long, she’d hurried through the hall and down the stairs into the lounge. She found Harry, Ron, and Lipton standing together by what was once a check-in desk for the hotel. Alice joined them.

“Sad to leave Germany?” Harry asked her.

She shrugged. Was she sad? If Alice was honest with herself, sadness was only one of several emotions she felt when thinking about leaving Germany. “If that’s the price I pay for getting to see this war end, I’ll pay it.” 

As Harry went to respond, Dick and Nixon both came hustling down the stairs. The former called everyone around, the dozen and a half officers waiting for instructions. “Listen up! I want everyone ready to go in ten minutes. We should be in Zell am See by 1030 hours. From there, I want all Company Commanders to find me for instructions.” 

Once they all nodded to him, he dismissed them. He joined his friends. “Are Easy and HQ ready?” Ron and Harry both nodded, so he turned to Alice. “Sink wants you in the lead with me, in case we need a translator to make the German surrender smoother.”

“Right.” She nodded and shuffled from right to left. One the one hand, the fact that Sink still had work for her to do allowed a weight to lift from her shoulders. But the thought of having to help German officers have smoother surrender caused anger to replace it.

“Let’s get moving,” Dick ordered. 

Alice picked up the duffel bag at her feet. Hauling it out the door, she followed Dick, Nixon, and Harry to a nearby jeep. Bull met them, taking their bags to one of enlisted trucks. Alice thanked him. As Nixon took the driver’s seat, he slipped on his aviators and smirked at her. With a small laugh, she shook her head. Harry settled next to her in the back, and before long they set off. They left Germany behind.


	41. Chapter 41

**May 8, 1945**

_Zell am See, Salzburg, Austria_

* * *

When the caravan of jeeps rolled up to the massive resort in Zell am See, Alice only had eyes for the incredible scenery. She’d never witnessed such incredible natural beauty. The greens seemed to be just a little more rich, the blue of the sky more calming. Above them, white clouds speckled the sky like cotton balls. Their jeep halted at the base of the resort.

Nixon and Dick hurried out of the jeep and towards the stairs. Alice took her time more slowly with Harry. The massive hotel resort was mostly white, with starkly contrasting reddish brown wooden trim and accents. The view over the lake took her breath away as it sparkled in the sunlight beyond the trees and between the mountains.

As she climbed the stairs, Harry just behind her, Alice could hear Nixon talking to Dick. It made her laugh that he still sounded exhausted. Officers of the Second Battalion flanked them as they ascended into the massive entrance way. 

Alice had never witnessed anything as ornate as the resort lobby. Even the Berchtesgadener Hof paled in comparison to the white and gold marble floors, white walls, and dark carved wooden decor. Sunlight streamed in from the many windows. In small bunches around the massive lobby, upholstered chairs and tables sat vacant. Above them, stained glass created a bit of a raised ceiling in the center.

Dick paused for a moment in the center. His gaze traveled around the pristine lobby before he turned back to the Company Commanders who had gathered with him, and a handful of other officers. He nodded. “I want you to get your XOs on figuring out where to house your men,” he ordered. “Officers will stay here. There are few other resorts nearby; split them up among the companies. I want Fox Company manning the school, Dog at the church, and Easy will take the Airfield. Rotate the enlisted as you see fit. Get it done.”

The commanders nodded. Alice watched as Ron pulled Shames aside and they disappeared back into the daylight. Before long, as Dick turned to her and Nixon, more footsteps sounded. Sink and Strayer moved in unison towards the three of them.

“Sirs, I’ve given 2nd Battalion their orders,” Dick told them. “Anything else?”

“Able Company is bringing in a regiment of German troops,” Strayer told him. “Their commanding officers are being brought here. See the Germans are processed correctly.”

Dick nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Klein, you’re on this one too,” Strayer added.

Once Alice nodded, Sink looked back at Dick. “I’ve gotta call General Taylor, let ‘im know how we stand. Get it done, boys.”

After Dick, Alice, and Nixon saluted them, both colonels left to look through the resort and find a place to set up as some sort of headquarters. A few aides helped the three officers get a back part of the lobby set up as a desk of sorts. The whole time, Alice felt herself tensing, her anger spreading through her entire body.

When Harry walked in twenty minutes later, expression unreadable, they had just finished getting the table set up. As he told Dick and Nixon that the Colonel and his aid were arriving, she moved away towards the door. Alice wanted a first look at them, at the people who had committed such horrible atrocities in the name of her homeland. She didn’t have to wait long.

They stood tall, the same height or perhaps taller even than Dick and Nixon. Grey, silver, and black made up the colors of the Wehrmacht uniforms and she had to admit, they wore it well. Alice scowled. Behind them, two corporals had their rifles loaded but down. They paused when they saw her. The taller one, the aide, smiled.

The Colonel also smirked. He looked her up and down. “Wir haben von dir gehört. Die Verräterin. Ich bin nicht hier, um mich dir zu ergeben.”

The traitor. At their comment, she bristled. Traitor? They were traitors to their own people! With a growl, she narrowed her eyes. “Du hast Glück, dass wir uns hier getroffen haben, sonst hätte ich dich erschossen.”

“Du hättest es versuchen können.”

The Colonel and his aide didn’t miss a step as they continued towards the other officers. For a moment, Alice did nothing. Yes, she definitely would’ve tried to shoot them if they’d met in a battle. She could hear her blood pounding. As Dick talked to them both, Nixon and Harry occasionally glanced at her. She rejoined them.

When the Colonel reached for his sidearm, Alice’s eyes widened. But he wasn’t stupid enough to draw it on Dick. Instead, the Colonel offered it to him, grip first. “Please accept this as my formal surrender, Major. It is better than to lay it on the desk of a clerk.”

The room fell silent. The Colonel’s outstretched Luger lay in a sort of limbo as Dick stared at it. Alice felt herself shaking ever so slightly from the anger at how he dared act so civil. He’d perpetuated the system that had attempted to eradicate millions of people. Finally Dick stood up from the table. 

“You may keep your sidearm, Colonel,” he said.

A ghost of a genuine smile passed over the Colonel’s expression. He paused for a few more moments before putting the gun back in its holster. With incredible precision, he and his aide straightened and saluted Dick. When Dick returned it, they nodded and turned to leave. But the Colonel looked at Alice first. He shot her a pointed smile.

Harry grabbed her arm as Alice nearly lunged at him. For the sake of the other officers, she forced herself to stay put even as the two German officers left the room accompanied by the enlisted guards. Her heart pounded.

“I’m not sure if you can murder someone by staring at them,” said Nixon.

Alice tore her attention from the closed doors and looked back at him in surprise. He started grinning at her. The other two watched her more closely. Alice just shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

“I don’t wanna have to hold you back every time one of them surrenders,” Harry attempted to joke.

Alice rolled her eyes. But Dick agreed with Harry. He sighed. “Why don’t you go find a room. Alice, go find Ron when you’re done, see if Easy needs any help.”

She recognized a dismissal when she heard it. As much as she hated that Dick sent her off to do mindless work, a small part of her knew it was to keep her out of trouble. Alice bit her cheek and nodded.

Grabbing a room key from one of the aides for a room on the fourth floor and leaving them her name, Alice headed up. The door opened easily when she found it. She couldn’t help but smile. A pair of windows looked out over the lake. A fairly large bed sat made to the right of the door, three pillows and two blankets. Alice dropped her bag at the foot of the bed and went to the windows.

The sight of the lake calmed her a bit. The sun had risen in the sky. The sting in her stomach reminded her how close to lunch it was. With a small yawn, Alice turned away from the scenery of Zell am See and back into the room. She took a minute to just lay on the bed.

A knock on her door half an hour later made her get up. She walked across the wood floors and pulled it open. Ron stood at the door. He had a lit cigarette in his mouth.

“You need help with Easy?” She asked. Alice had assumed Dick had wanted her to find him to keep her out of trouble, not do anything useful.

He shook his head. “No they’re fine. I gave the Toccoa men the day off. They’re gonna go explore the lake.”

She grinned. “Never knew you were such a softie, Ron.”

“I’m not. But if I let them get this out of their systems, maybe they’ll actually listen to me tomorrow,” he muttered. “Last thing I need is for the NCOs to start shootin’ each other or something.”

Alice laughed under her breath. She nodded. “I’ll go with them, make sure they don’t destroy anything.”

When he left her to her own devices, she turned back into the room. She filled her canteen from a tap in the bathroom. With a last look around at her stuff, she left the room and went back down into the lobby. No one she considered a friend caught her eyes. Alice hurried outside.

She took the steps down towards the road. At the base of the stairs, George, Malarkey, Johnny, and Bull stood together the first and last smoking. At the pounding of her boots against the concrete, all of them turned.

“There she is,” George called. “Come on.”

She scoffed at his shout. But when at last her feet hit the ground, she hurried over to them. The gentle breeze of May pushed her hair into her face. Alice sputtered as some of it got in her mouth. George started laughing at her.

“Come on,” Malarkey urged. “I wanna see this lake.”

Alice chuckled, but she gestured for them to go ahead. Before long the whole group trudged down an extremely steep, skinny road. To the right, trees reared up around them past a sheer drop. On their left, a layered stone wall then turned into the mountainside to frame the road.

The boys chatted along the way, Johnny deftly deflecting George’s attempts to ruffle his calm. Malarkey would join in occasionally. But Alice walked just a bit behind them. She’d gotten caught in her own musings again. With a cigarette to calm her down, her first of the day, she thought all about what would come next. She needed to write Millie as soon as possible.

“Mighty quiet, Alice.” Bull’s drawling tone pulled her back to reality. He’d fallen into step with her, the others ahead. Johnny looked about ready to push George off the mountain. Bull looked at her again.

She nodded, biting her lip through a smile. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

The road leveled out when they reached the lake. It continued on around it in both directions, with a large walking path branching off. Unlike the paved road, the path was merely finely pressed dirt, lined on both sides by green, leafy trees. The sunlight penetrated the forest around them to dapple the ground. Alice could hear birds, a noise that made her pause in her step. She hadn’t heard such a chorus in months, it seemed like.

She took a deep breath. Alice could hear the gentle lapping of water against stone. Starting off down the path after the boys, she did her best to push away her stressful thoughts. Their laughter echoed down the path towards her until she found them and another group of Easy’s Toccoa men messing around on the edge of the lake. Liebgott, Skinny, Grant, and Babe threw stones into the lake, trying to skip them. George stood to the side, heckling them.

Alice stopped breathing. Watching them, their laughter and their coarse language and their different personalities she’d come to love over almost three years, Alice didn’t want to leave. But she’d have to. She would have to leave. Again, she would lose a family. Even if she stayed until the war ended, if by some miracle, they didn’t go to the Pacific. The war was going to end. And then she’d lose them.

Feeling her throat clench and tears form in her eyes, Alice stuck towards the treeline and continued down the path. She left them to their antics. Instead, Alice went to be by herself. As she walked, their voices faded until she couldn’t hear them anymore. Only dappled sunlight through the trees and the melodic waves against the built up stone wall around the lake accompanied her.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, Alice found herself leaving the trees again. She came out towards a dock. The dock, made of stone with a flat top of slate, went about twenty feet out into the lake. Alice climbed the two steps up to it. She went to the edge. 

Settling down, Alice slipped off her boots. She sat cross-legged at the edge of the dock, the slate warmed by the sun that beat down on its dark surface. After several minutes of sitting, she eased off her button down shirt and lay back on the stone dock in her tank top. Alice closed her eyes. The breeze off the lake cooled the area, but the sun warmed her skin enough to keep it comfortable. 

Alice tried to her mind to think happy thoughts. She pushed away the inevitable goodbyes she’d have to say. She’d said too many goodbyes. Her heart hurt thinking about saying more. With the warm stone at her back and the bright sun above, Alice sighed. She closed her eyes, and she breathed.


	42. Chapter 42

**May 13, 1945**

Alice grabbed a towel from a cabinet in the bathroom of her hotel room. The sun had just started to rise, and all she wanted to do was go swimming. The night before she’d begged Nix to come with her to stand guard so she could swim in peace. After much prodding, he’d agreed. Alice pulled on her boots and laced them half of the way up.

Grinning to herself, she pulled her door closed behind herself. Taking the stairs down as quickly and quietly as she could, Alice found herself in the entrance lounge in no time. A few enlisted soldiers stood guard at the front. Other than that, only Nixon sat in the room. She nearly laughed at how bedraggled he looked.

“Ready?” she asked.

He glanced up and rolled his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he walked over. “Why am I doing this again?”

Alice laughed as they walked out into the pleasant warmth of Zell am See. The sun started hitting the ground, casting long shadows from the trees in the early morning. With a deep breath of the fresh air, she turned to him. “Because I have no interest in swimming in a lake with minimal clothing without a guard.” When he sighed, she added, “I could always go ask George. I’m sure he’d love to.”

Nixon snorted, but he cracked a smile. He took a drink. “Fine.”

They walked mostly in silence down the path Alice had found the first day. As they strolled along, a chorus of birds set the blissful scene. When they reached the level of the lake, Alice showed him the path.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, leading the way. The trees rose to either side, wildflowers sprinkling their roots. “Trust me. It’s worth getting up this early.”

“Alice.”

She looked back. “What?”

“Nothing is worth getting up this early.”

With another sharp laugh, she shook her head and continued on. “You know we had to get up this early during training. How’d you manage it then?”

Nixon scoffed. “A lot of coffee. And Dick would kick me until I got up.”

They came out to the edge of the lake by the dock. Bluish water stretched on between mountains in front of them. Alice paused. Her breath hitched. The astounding beauty never seemed to cease in Austria. She grinned.

Alice walked to the end of the stone dock. Sunlight poured onto the stone just as it had days ago, but it was still so early in the day that it lacked a lot of the warmth. When she shifted off her boots and socks and put her bare feet on the slate, she grimaced. The water would be cold. Still, she had come all the way down there. Alice wasn’t going to back out, especially not since she’d dragged Nix with her. So she pulled her paratrooper pants off over her shorts, and her button down ODs with it. Left with just a dark tee-shirt and shorts, she paused.

“I was wrong,” Nix said. 

Alice turned around. He had walked out half way along the dock. He still looked hungover, and she guessed he was, but he smirked now. She frowned. “Wrong about what?”

“This is worth getting up this early.”

She couldn’t stop herself from grinning. With a shake of her head, she threw her jacket at him. He caught it, still chuckling. For a moment she teetered on the edge. Her nerves screamed at her. She knew it would be cold. Alice scrunched up her face. Her muscles tightened. But she couldn’t jump.

“Jesus christ, just jump in.”

Alice turned. She glared at him. He moved closer. Alice gaped, and shook her head. She screamed. “I swear, Nix, if you push me in I’ll pull you in after me.” He stopped moving towards her so she nodded. “I’ll jump! I’ll jump. Just give me a minute.”

After staring at the water for another few second, Alice scrunched her face up and braced for the cold. She jumped. Hitting the water with a splash, she sputtered at the sudden temperature change. Gasping for air, she scrunched herself up. German curses spewed forth from her, entirely uncensored. Nixon just laughed between drinks.

But after a little while to adjust, she settled down. Alice moved further into the water, a little deeper so she didn’t have to stand in the sandy ground. She kept moving. The more she moved, the warmer she felt. The sunlight hit her face and head, warming her soaked hair.

It didn’t take long before Alice just started floating on her back, letting the sun warm her skin. The water around her became less cold the longer she stayed in it. A deep sense of peace surrounded her. Alice smiled. 

After a good twenty minutes of swimming around the general area, Alice moved back towards the dock. Nixon still sat there, sipping at his flask, looking out over the lake. Reaching the dock, Alice hauled herself up the rocky side until she sat dripping on the slate next to him. The sun had warmed the stones. Without speaking, Nix passed her the flask. She took a drink. The bite of scotch almost made her cough.

A moment later, Alice leaned back until she lay on the stones. Just as it had days before, the slate felt almost like a massage on her back. She closed her eyes with a smile. The water dripped from her tee-shirt and hair onto the stones around her.

“I don’t want this to end,” she muttered. Nixon laughed under his breath, but he didn’t respond. She guessed he was still a little bitter about getting up so early. It couldn’t have been past 0800. “This is perfect.”

“Being soaking wet lying in the middle of a forest before humans should even be awake is perfect?” he asked. 

Alice couldn’t see him roll his eyes with her own closed, but she imagined it. It just made her smirk more. She sat up. Alice turned to him, where he sat with his legs over the side like her, dressed in his bedraggled ODs. It took her breath away. Not because of the way the light hit his skin, or his slightly messy hair, but because he was there.

“Nix,” she said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being here.”

Nixon smirked into a small laugh. “Wasn’t about to let George do it.”

“No, I mean… always. Just, being here. You’ve done it since Toccoa and I think if I’m going to remember anything from this war, it’s that.” Alice’s smile faded a bit. She turned from him to look back out over the lake. The mountains in the distance almost glowed along the edges from the sun. “I would not have made it through this hell without you.”  
“You underestimate yourself,” he argued. “You put up with us bunch of idiots back in training who didn’t even understand what we were fighting for. Not really.”

Alice smiled. She looked back at him. “Yeah, you all were pretty naive.”

He let out a light laugh. After another drink from his flask, he turned to her. “And through everything you still held onto you. You keep saying Adelaide’s gone. You’ve convinced yourself that Alice is different, stronger somehow.” He shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?” Alice crossed her arms over her chest. But he just flashed her a tiny smile and passed over the flask. She downed the last bit that was in it. 

“When you built a snowman in the middle of Bastogne. Or when you rescued the kitten in Haguenau.” He looked at her, watched her expression soften. Nix smirked. “That was Adelaide. She’s in there.”

“Then she’s broken,” Alice whispered. 

Nixon just huffed. “She’s not alone.” He lifted his flask a bit and waved it in the air. Setting it to his left, on the other side of himself, he sighed and shook his head.

As he looked down at the water, Alice just watched him. She waited a few moments before grabbing his hand. He looked at her. Alice waited no time leaning over to kiss him. Gentle, but firm, she tried to convey all the emotions she couldn’t put into words. The stress evaporated from both of them in an instance. Alice just wanted to stay there, forever, in the sunshine and warmth of a dock in Zell am See, the two of them together.

Footsteps behind them made her pull back. They both turned around, looking back down the dock towards the trees. She winced. Nixon just broke into a grin at Dick’s small shake of his head. He wasted no time in struggling up and walking towards him.

“Secret’s out, I guess,” Nixon joked. He raised his now empty flask. “Cheers.”

Dick, wearing his shorts and tee-shirt, towel around his neck, clearly had had the same idea as Alice. He just shook his head. “And here I thought I’d get a peaceful morning swim.”

“Sorry,” Alice muttered. She pulled herself up too, ringing out as much water from her shirt as she could onto the slate. With a sigh, she did her hair next. “We didn’t want to put you in this position. Are you going to report us?”

Nixon scoffed. “Nah, he’s too nice. Right Dick?”

Dick glared at him, but then turned back to Alice. With a deep breath, he shook his head. “If I didn’t think you two needed this, I would. But you do need to be responsible, and discreet, Nixon.” He turned to the other man head on.

Snickering into his water canteen, Nixon through his other hand upwards in protest. “Why’d you assume it’s me?”

“It’s always you,” Dick argued.

Alice walked over, picking her towel up off the ground and working at her hair. As much as she could, she dried her hair and then her face and then her body. Nixon tossed her her pants.

“Does anyone else know,” Dick asked.

Nixon snickered. “Harry.”

“And George,” Alice added.

“What?” Both of them turned to her in surprise.

Alice winced, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling a bit. “He guessed it, okay. I don’t lie to him.” When both of them rolled their eyes, Alice shook her head. “Besides, you should get mad at Harry. The two of them had a bet going with Guarnere over the two of us.”

Nixon burst out laughing. Beside him Dick looked entirely unamused. It took a bit for Nixon to stop snickering. When he did, he just patted Dick on the shoulder and walked down the dock towards the path. “Enjoy your swim.”

With a small smile, Alice followed him. She’d slipped into her boots. With her OD shirt over her arms and her towel draped around her neck, she hurried past him. Smirking, she gestured back towards the water. “It’s pretty cold.”

“Thanks,” Dick said. 

He watched them go. Before long, Alice and Nixon were strolling up the stairs into the resort. Her clothes had mostly dried in the time since she’d been in the lake. As their boots slammed onto the last step and they walked into the marble-floored lounge, Alice left Nixon to his own devices. She hurried up the stairs to the fourth floor.

Once she got to her room, she ran a shower and washed her hair. Not for the first, nor for the last, time she felt beyond grateful for soap and shampoo and warm water. They’d been in Austria for only a week, but she loved it. If it hadn’t been for the war, it’d have been perfect. But there was still a war on. Even though the men spent their free time drinking and celebrating, playing baseball and basketball and relaxing, the war still loomed. More and more Germans surrendered every day. They trickled in like ants.

With her body clean and her mind a bit exhausted, she decided to take a nap. Her head hit the pillow. She fell asleep in mere minutes. 

The knock on her door that woke her was Nixon. He looked as tired as she had felt a couple hours before. “Come on, we got a newsreel from Regimental. They want everyone to view it.”

Alice nodded, and followed after him. They took the stairs down two at a time. Just across from the last step, three enlisted men stood crowded by a glass door. At their appearance, the men stood away. Nixon opened it and stepped inside. Alice followed.

A large projector screen had been set up in the front of the crowded room. Seats and standing room had been filled almost to capacity as blood images of the war in the Pacific raged on. Sidling to the right of the door, she picked up a spot just in front of Dick. To his and Nixon’s right, she nodded to Harry, Lipton, and Ron. It seemed to be mostly Dog Company crowded into the makeshift theater, some standing, some sitting, a few even perched on a desk in the corner. The steady, rapid click-click of the rotating film became a backdrop for the military newscaster.

“Each small advance is gained by sheer grit, in the face of withering fire from a suicidal enemy being slowly hammered back into the hills. The going is brutal, and our casualties are high. But Okinawa is the next big step towards victory over Japan, a victory that can only be won by work, war bonds, and heroic sacrifice.”

With a click of the end of the tape, the screen went blank. Alice couldn’t breathe. The peace she’d felt earlier disappeared. The looming threat of Easy jumping into Japan crashed over her again. Nothing was forever. Austria wouldn’t last forever. Before long, she’d be discharged and Easy would leave to fight another war. And from what she’d seen and heard, the Japs fought in a way foreign even to the Germans. Alice shuddered.

The lights flipped on. Men shifted in their spots and got up to leave. As they scuttled out, few spoke. Most of them had the same thoughts running through the minds as she did. Once a handful of the enlisted had made it out, giving them more space to move, Ron flipped around to stand before Dick, Alice to his right. 

“So when are we going?” he asked.

Dick took a deep breath. He noticed the other officers leaning in. “We don’t have a date yet.” 

“We to tell the men right away?” Ron folded his arms across his chest. He glanced from Dick to Nixon and Lipton, and back to Dick.

Dick sighed, nodding ever so slightly. His voice stayed low. “Some of them will have enough points to go home.”

But Nixon broke in. He shook his head. “Not many, if their only medal is a purple heart.”

Behind him, Alice saw Harry and Lipton both nodding. They all knew it was true. The brass had been beyond stingy with handing out medals. Often they went to the favorites of the Regiment. It had pissed her off more than once.

“Still, I think most of us will have enough.” Dick looked at all of them before moving towards the door. Assured they would follow, he kept talking, “And each of us will have to decide what to do. I don’t know how long we’re waiting here for orders, but I want those veterans who are staying, and all new replacements ready to fight.” 

Dick turned back to them as they stood in the hall. While the enlisted filed past, he eyed Nixon, Ron, Harry, and Lipton. They stood gloomy but all ears for what he had to say while Alice hung to the side. Dick looked at Ron and Lipton. “That means rifle ranges, that means daily close-order drills, that means troop reviews. But above all that means physical training. Get your NCOs on it.”

As Ron nodded, looking at the floor, Dick moved to leave. Harry joined him. At the back, highly amused, Nixon just snarked, “They’re gonna love you.”

Not even Alice laughed at his joke. She followed next to Lipton, just in front of Nix, as they made to leave the lobby. Her heart raced. She did her best to slow her breathing, calm herself. But the prospect of losing everyone wouldn’t leave her mind. She couldn’t lose them. She couldn’t.

But Alice knew she didn’t have a say in the matter. With a frown, she split from Dick and Nixon and instead followed Lip and Ron out to the stairs. As they headed towards Easy Company, she stopped at the landing. With mountains reared up in the distance beyond the lake. She tried to put herself back on the dock just a handful of hours before. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing good, at least. She sighed. With a last look at the lake in the distance, Alice tried to push the thoughts away.


	43. Chapter 43

**June 1, 1945**

“Goddamnit, Alley, you have got to be cheating.”

Alice groaned as she threw her cards onto the small table they had commandeered for poker. As Moe Alley snickered, she shook her head. They’d set up shop at one of the picnic tables near the airfield. Not far away, a baseball diamond had been pulled together. She could hear some men from D Company going at it with the replacements from Easy. To her left, Alley grabbed the discarded cards from herself, Johnny, and Spina.

“No way,” Alice snapped. She grabbed the cards from him. “I’m shuffling. And I’m dealing.”

“Be my guest,” he said, smirking at her around his cigarette.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Somehow Alley had managed to win five of the last ten rounds, and she’d had enough. Alice shuffled them in a bridge. To her right, Spina wrestled a cigarette from his pants pocket. Across, Johnny watched her.

“Deal the goddamn cards,” he ordered. “Come on.”

Alice scoffed. “Sorry. Right. Ante up.”

As she and the boys put their starting ante into the center of the table, she passed them out. They decide nothing would be wild. Once everyone had five, Alice slammed the extra stack to her right and picked up her own. “Alley, first bet?”

He thumbed the cards. A long blow of smoke left his mouth. Then he glanced up at her, smirked, and threw three dollars into the pot. “Three bucks.”

Johnny put three in to match him. “Can’t decide if you’re lyin’ or just your regular level of smartass.”

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it,” Alley said.

“Yeah, it would.” Johnny scoffed. “Fine. Raise you two.”

Spina snorted as he took the cigarette out of his mouth. When Johnny told him to bet, he scoffed. “Calm down. I’m thinkin’ here.”

“We know how that goes with men from Philly,” Alice teased. To her joy, both Johnny and Alley cracked up.

“Hey, watch it. That’s Philly you’re talkin’ about,” Spina muttered. But he grabbed the money owed and added it to the pot. “Raise one.”

“What’s that? Six to me?” At their nods, Alice pulled six bills from her stash. “Fine. There’s six. Alley how many cards?”

“Two.”

She handed him two and took his discards. In the end, Johnny took two and Spina took three. She decided to just take one. Her hand consisted of one card short of a flush. Just one more heart. Alice flipped over the card.

Six of Diamonds. It took all her training not to groan in annoyance. Now all she had to her name was a pair of sixes. Alice glanced up. “Alley, your bet.”

“Two bucks.” He tossed them into the center. Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he dropped it to the ground and stomped it with his boot in the grass. “So, Lieutenant. Any more word on what the brass are doing for the one year?”

“Maybe,” she teased.

Johnny scoffed. He raised the bet by four, causing the others to straighten up in a mix of annoyance and sudden interest. Johnny looked across at her as Spina matched his bet. “Care to share?”

“Fine. We got word from Colonel Sink; General Taylor is letting each company hold a raffle to send one man home.” She shook her head. “I fold.”

Alley laughed at her. “You got no luck today, Alice.”

“Nah, she’s got plenty ‘a bad luck,” Spina heckled.

In the end, Spina won the round. As he collected up his winnings, the rest of them just yawned and stretched. They’d been playing for nearly an hour. Just as Alice went to throw in the towel and call it a day, Johnny glanced past her and waved someone down. She turned. Liebgott, Bull, Ramirez, Malark, Perco, and Shifty strolled across the grass.

“She clean you out?” Lieb heckled. He stood behind her, hands in his pockets. “How bad did you beat them?”

Before she could respond, Alley laughed. “Nah, she lost. Quite a bit, if I was keeping count correctly.” He stood from the table, collecting up his cards. Then he looked at the others. “How’d the hunt for venison go?”

“Struck out,” Malark told them. Then he glanced at her as Alice yawned. “Don’t you have a party or something tonight?”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Yeah, all the officers from the 506th are going. Taylor’s in town.”

“Fancy,” Johnny said.

She laughed. “Yeah. Well I just hope Nix brings enough Vat 69 because I will need that to get through the bureaucracy of that many Brass in one place. I can barely stand the 2nd Battalion get-togethers, and I like most of our officers.”

“Hey, isn’t Tab going?” Perconte asked.

Alice smirked and nodded. “Yes. My one comfort.”

“What, that he’s goin’ too?” Lieb asked.

She stood away from the table with another yawn. Nodding, Alice crossed her hands over her chest. “Yep. I’ll get to watch him suffer.”

Leaving them to their laughter, Alice started back from the airfield towards the resort. A woman from the town had been selling some things to the soldiers, trying to make a bit of money. Mostly it had been jewelery for them to send home to girls, or booze for their parties. But Alice had stopped by and picked up a hair curler and some makeup products.

When she got back to her bedroom, she set to work. She kept it simple, but with curls towards the neck. Enough to feel a bit more put together. She’d only been able to get lipstick, no foundation or powder. But the red shade from the Austrian girl would work well. She put it on and dabbed the excess off with a tissue.

The party was supposed to start at 1800 hours. As that time rapidly approached, Alice shifted on her boots and then lastly, her Ike jacket. The dark brown material suited her. Alice actually quite liked it. Giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror, she nodded.

Alice left her room behind. She took the stairs carefully, not in any real rush. Two of the officers from Baker company strolled down the steps in front of her. When she finally reached the ground floor, Alice found it busy with party-goers. Several privates, probably replacements from HQ who had drawn short straws, meandered about in their dress uniforms with trays of booze and hors d'oeuvres. She spotted Lieutenant Stokes, the S-2 from 1st Battalion. He stood chatting with Bakers’ Lieutenant Simms. They stood near the walkway to the dining room of the resort.

“Lieutenant Klein, you look nice,” Stokes said, noticing her. He nodded.

“Lieutenants,” she returned. With a small, forced smile, she nodded their way. Stokes was nice enough. She worked with him frequently. Smart, capable, a bit too much of a talker, though. Simms she didn’t know very well at all. “Either of you seen Major Winters, or Lieutenant Welsh?”

“I saw Major Winters with Major Hester, out the back,” Stokes told her. “You seen Nixon recently? He owes me some Vat 69.”

She shook her head. “No. But I’m sure he’ll be around here somewhere.”

Leaving them to continue their chat, Alice moved back through the halls into the garden areas. Most days they were relatively empty. When the officers had free time, many of them would go down to the lake or the sports fields. In the almost-month they’d been in Austria, two baseball fields, two tennis courts, and several boxing rings had been established. Many of the enlisted who saw themselves as potentially going professional in sports someday had formed teams for each Battalion. The officers enjoyed betting over their own men.

She accepted a glass of champagne from a private. Taking a few sips, Alice mostly kept to herself. She could hear Strayer and Sink somewhere in the outdoor area. No doubt they’d introduce her to General Taylor and his staff at some point. She’d prefer to do it with Dick present, though. Hopefully she’d have at least one friend to face the man in charge of her Division, whom she’d never actually met.

“Oh thank god, someone I like.”

Alice turned when she heard Talbert behind her. He stood dressed to the nines, also holding champagne. His glass was over half empty though. Alice smiled. “Getting bored?”

He sighed. “We’ve still got how many hours of this?”

“Too many,” she said.

He instantly agreed. Moving over to join him against the railing of the garden which looked out over the lake, the Zeller See, she took another drink. The Hotel Zell really did offer an incredible view. It never got old.

“Have you seen Lip?” Tab asked her. He leaned up against the railing, facing inwards towards the grounds. When she shook his head, he turned to her. “You know that lottery-raffle thing, for D-Day?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

Talbert paused. He glanced around. Then he turned back to her with a small sigh. “Did you know Shifty’s fifteen points short of discharge?”

Alice felt her eyes widen. “Fifteen?”

“Yeah. Fifteen.” He took a drink. After the brief pause, he turned to her again. “Some of us had an idea. I think it’ll work, if you can get Speirs to agree.”

“I’m listening, Tab,” she said.

“We want to rig the lottery so Shifty goes home.”

Alice turned from where she’d been looking over the lake. Her gaze met Talbert’s. He watched her carefully. A moment later, and then she broke into a smile. “Ron’ll be fine with it, if the whole Company gets behind the idea. How many people are in favor?”

“Well, Johnny and Malark brought it up to me this afternoon,” he told her. “I know they’d already talked to most of the Toccoa guys. A few took some convincing, but they’re behind it. As for the Replacements, well, I don’t think they’re stupid enough to object to a Normandy vet going home.”

Alice snorted. “Yeah. That’d be a death wish.”

“And everybody loves Shifty, so.”

“He’s the best of us,” she agreed. Alice took a drink of her champagne. Letting the bubbles tickle her throat, she gave it some thought. “Right. I’ll talk to Ron, we’ll figure out the logistics. You need to talk to the rest of the boys. Everyone needs to agree to this.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get it done.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Around them, men ranging from First Sergeants to Majors meandered about. Most of the officers gathered were Lieutenants. Alice felt like she was drowning in a sea of officers when they finally caught sight of friendly faces.

Talbert straightened up next to her as Ron, Lip, and Dick strolled over. The first two carried champagne glasses. Alice realized she needed a new one.

“Sirs,” Talbert said.

“Tab,” Dick replied, nodding. Then he turned to Alice. “Colonel Sink wants to introduce you to General Taylor.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. But Alice nodded. She turned to Talbert. “Wish me luck.”

With his short laugh, Alice just followed Dick and Ron. She swapped her empty glass for a full one on the way. Soon enough, Colonel Sink’s distinctive drawl, and the rasp of Colonel Strayer sounded ahead. It didn’t take long for her to see them. She straightened up.

Ron walked next to her, sipping at his own champagne in silence. As Dick moved a bit ahead to introduce her first, she tried not to grimace. She could see him, General Taylor, standing tall just shy of Dick. He had dark hair, though it had started to grey. Beside him stood a lieutenant colonel.

“Sirs,” Dick said, interrupting them.

As they stopped chatting and turned his way, Sink grinned and nodded. The circle widened to let Alice and Ron both in. Alice found herself between Ron and Dick, with Strayer to Ron’s other side beside the General.

“General Taylor, Colonel Kohls, these are Captain Ronald Speirs, CO of Easy Company,” Sink said, “and First Lieutenant Alice Klein, liaison attached to 2nd Battalion.”

She saluted at the same time as Ron. General Taylor returned it before extending a hand to Ron, and then to her. She shook it. His grip was firm, practiced.

“Pleasure to finally put a face to the name, Lieutenant,” he said, pulling back. “When I took over, Lee told me about you, and I almost didn’t believe it. Bob’s been bringing me up to speed on your good work.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ve been glad to help,” she said.

“Now that your war’s over, you ready to go back to civilian life?” Taylor asked. He swiped a new champagne glass as a soldier moved by. Then he turned to her. “Get back into dresses again?”

Alice paused. The grip on her champagne tightened, her knuckles turning white. She could feel Dick and Ron both watching her carefully. But the line of questions from the General hit dangerously close to her fear that she’d be sent away. Alice didn’t have an answer.

“Sir, Lieutenant Klein has been invaluable in assisting with the ongoing process of the German surrender,” Dick jumped in. “We’d hate to lose her.”

Alice glanced up at Dick. Then she turned back to the General. “As long as my presence here is helping with the surrender, I’m happy to stay,” she added.

“What do you plan to do after the war, Lieutenant?” Colonel Kohls asked.

Alice paused. “I’m not quite sure. Most of the Germany I knew is gone now. I’ve considered finishing my schooling in Paris, but I’m not sure I want to move back there.”

“Yeah, we heard about your family. Nasty bit of business,” General Taylor told her. “Those camps were terrible. Unbelievable really.”

Her throat ran dry. Beside her, both Ron and Dick stiffened. The pounding of her heart made her fear her chest would be ripped apart. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The gaunt faces of the incarcerated men filled her memory. The stench, too, a stench she knew she’d never forget. Screams from the nightmares that had become frequent yet again, of Bernadette grasping for her hand to be pulled to safety, echoed silent in her ears.

“Yes, sir,” she finally sputtered.

As conversation turned towards Ron and Easy Company, she felt colder. Alice had no real explanation for it, but at the first moment possible, she excused herself on the excuse of needing a glass of water. She could only imagine Dick watching as she walked away, but she had to get out of there. Alice needed space.

For the rest of the night, she did her best to avoid absolutely everyone. She’d seen Nixon come in not long after she’d fled the General. But her emotions kept her from finding him. She knew he’d have to socialize anyways. As a Lieutenant, it was easier to just fade into the crowd even as a woman. The higher up the ranks you were, the more noticeable one became.

At 2100 hours, she left the party. Alice figured she’d stayed long enough. The drinks and desserts had been passed out. She’d spotted Foley getting particularly drunk. With a sigh, Alice walked from the dark gardens through to the lounge. The echo of the rowdy officers dulled the further away she went.

“Alice!”

Nix. Alice turned around from the base of the stairs, taking a deep breath. She forced a small smile when he walked over. The dress uniform looked good on him, but the flask in his hand is what really made her smile. A bit of normalcy in the insanity of the end of the war.

“I don’t know if you saw him,” Nix started, “but Sobel showed up a bit ago. I know that’s not why you’re leaving,” he added, his smile dropping, “but I thought it was funny. Wish I could run too.”

Alice let out a small, sad laugh. “At least you don’t have to salute him anymore.”

“Oh god, I don’t know if I could handle saluting that sonofabitch again.” He smiled again. But the longer he looked at her, the less he smiled. Finally he let his voice drop. Even though he didn’t see anymore, he figured caution was due. “Try to sleep.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Her entire resolve deflated though, thinking about the nightmares she’d been having. General Taylor certainly hadn’t helped matters. But she forced a smile for his sake. “Don’t get too drunk trying to block out the Brass.”

“If you’re still up when I finally get out of this insanity, I’ll be happy to let you know how many times Sobel acts like a bastard.”

She grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

As Nixon nodded to her one more time, she turned away. Alice took each step with care. Each one took her further and further from the ruckus. She tried to time her breathing to her footfalls. By the time she got to the fourth floor, her body had calmed some. She only hoped sleep would help even more.


	44. Chapter 44

**June 10, 1945**

Four days. It had been four days since the anniversary of the jump into Normandy, four days since Shifty had been given discharge, and four days since Sink had confirmed the 506th and the 101st Airborne would definitely be redeployed to the Pacific. Shifty hadn’t left yet; his paperwork still needed to go through. But as Alice sat barely dressed in bed, hair a disaster, all she could think of was how it was ending. Everything was ending.

Her mind raced. As much as she tried to focus on the warm light cascading through the sheer curtains, Alice couldn’t. There was too much stress, too much anger, too much uncertainty. She pulled the comforter closer to her chest. 

Dick planned to apply for a transfer. She’d heard him talking to Nixon the previous night. They’d been outside when she’d walked by. Alice had meant to go up to them, but hearing Dick say those words had frozen her on the spot.

A part of her understood his perspective. The waiting game they had to play now, of when would they be sent East, it was enough to drive anyone crazy. The enlisted had been getting more and more antsy. Ron tried to keep them active with training, to get their minds off the unknown. But the officers didn’t have that comfort, not really.

As if Dick leaving wasn’t hard enough, Alice had seen the look on Nix’s face when he’d been told that. Her heart had broken in two. Without a shadow of a doubt, Alice knew that Nix would go with Dick, or would’ve, if she hadn’t been in the picture. They had a bond that she couldn’t compare to anything really. A love that came only from relying on each other for everything. Not unlike how she loved Nixon. Different, and yet the same. And they’d known each other twice as long as she’d known them.

Alice had fled to her room. Panic had seized her body. She saw no right answer. A terror filled her even thinking of Dick and Nixon jumping into the Pacific and leaving her behind. But equally as scary was imagining either of them jumping alone. And she knew, the only reason they’d not jump together would be her.

The sunlight reached her bed. Alice closed her eyes. She let the light fall on her bare arms, on her face. A pleasant warmth spread over her body. She could feel it through the dark green comforter. Her breathing slowed. She tried to calm down.

A gentle knock at the door pulled her back to reality a several minutes later. Alice released a breath. It took a second knock for her to crawl out of the blankets. She glanced down. Figuring the only people to be knocking on her door would be people she didn’t mind being seen in PT shorts and a loose shirt, Alice went and opened it up.

Nixon leaned against the door frame. With a small smile and shake of her head, she moved to let him in. For the first time in days he wore clean ODs instead of the dress uniform that had become commonplace for staff officers. While he sat down at the desk chair across from her bed, Alice just padded back to her pile of blankets.

“I was surprised you didn’t see Second Platoon off,” he said.

Alice shrugged. Her smile faltered a bit. She’d been trying not to spend as much time with the enlisted in preparation for her or their inevitable departure. “I’m sure they were excited.”

He snorted. “That’s an understatement. I think I overheard Malarkey say something about wanting to try the ski class?”

That made her grin. Dick had organized a rotation of one platoon from the 2nd Battalion for a break at a resort up in the mountains every few days. It offered a distraction from the monotony, and now that training had resumed, a reason to run up a mountain. Hi-yo silver.

At the memory, Alice couldn’t help but smile a bit. As she looked from the blankets to the mountains through the window, she felt her heart beating rapidly again. Light bounced off the lake. She turned back to him. He sat watching her.

“I heard Dick last night,” she said, voice low. Alice looked away from him, towards the window, and then towards the blankets. 

His smile dropped instantly. “Crazy man, is what he is,” he tried to joke. “Such a thrill seeker.”

“Nix.” Alice stopped him. Glancing up at him, she tried to form the words she’d finally convinced herself were the right ones. They wouldn’t come. She bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard it bled. “You’re going with him.” 

It was more a statement than a question, but her voice wavered. Across from her, Nixon didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. After several moments of them both in silence, he seemed to regain control of himself. “He can jump by himself. He’s an adult, sometimes-”

Alice cut him off with a small, sad laugh. She dipped her head to look down at her bed for a moment before facing him. “You’re going. You need to go.” With a sigh, she tried to keep a smile on her face. “You can go. You should go. If you didn’t go, and Dick, well.” At the thought, she clammed up for a moment. But she pushed on. “You’d never forgive yourself. And you might not be able to forgive me for being the reason you weren’t there. Shit, I don’t think I’d forgive myself.” 

The silence between was palpable, but not uncomfortable. She could see him thinking. For a moment she wondered what was going through his head.

“I’ll be the lucky one, really,” she added. “I’m done. No more jumps for me. Dick will need you more than I would. I figure, I’ll just go stay with Millie once I’m discharged. She could use the help.” More silence. Alice looked at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless,” she attempted to joke.

Nixon laughed a little. He downed a drink of alcohol from his flask, but he still didn’t say anything. After a moment, he shook his head. He glanced towards the window. Then he glanced back. “You’re sure?”

“You need to go with him,” she stated simply.

With a small laugh, choked from emotion, he looked down at the floor. He had no words. Never in his entire life had Nix been struck so silent. Standing from the chair, he walked over to the nearby window. Alice joined him. 

“It’s okay. I know you’ll come back,” she said, voice low. But she tried to smile for both of their sakes. “Otherwise I’ll have to jump into Japan and drag you both back.”

Nixon turned to face her. He stood against the window. With a small shake of his head, he watched her. He took a deep breath. “When we get back, would you marry me?”

She stopped breathing. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected it eventually. But at the question, Alice froze. After a moment, she laughed and grinned. “Yes.” 

“Good, but this isn’t an official proposal,” he added, grinning too. “I need a ring for that.”

Alice laughed again. Pulling him into a kiss, she had to break it a moment later to try to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. For the moment she pushed away any and all thoughts of him getting sent to or, god forbid, dying, in the Pacific. She stayed in the embrace hoping it would never end.

“So why’d you come up here?” she finally asked.

Nixon moved apart, trying to remember. “Oh, right. First and Third are going to be playing a baseball game. Harry and I were heading over to watch, thought you might want to come.”

“Tempting.” She smirked at him. Pushing away from the window, she walked to the dresser. “I think I can squeeze that into my schedule.”

“We are truly honored by your presence,” he deadpanned. With a small laugh, Nix took another drink of his flask. He turned to look out the window at the beauty of Zell am See. “You’ve got a nice view. Jesus Christ, how’d you luck out with that?”

Once she’d pulled on a nice set of fatigues, Alice leaned against her bed and laced up her jump boots. Her smile never left her face. “Guess I’m just lucky.”

“Well, you got me,” he pointed out.

“There’s the arrogant rich jerk from Yale,” she teased. Straightening up, Alice gestured towards the door. “Come on.”

When they reached the lounge, Harry stood chatting with Talbert. They both were grinning. Harry laughed at something Talbert said. When they caught sight of Alice and Nixon, Harry nodded to him and joined them.

“Took you awhile,” Harry commented.

Alice shook her head. “I was still in bed, sorry.”

He hummed, glancing between them with a smirk. “Right. Let’s go.”

The three of them headed towards the doors. Just as they set foot outside into the warm air, Vest came over to them, mailbag at his side. He flagged them down. “I’ve got mail for you three, sirs.” He handed three to Alice, two to Harry, and two to Nixon.

Alice smiled. As he moved away, she called after him. “Thanks, Vest.”

“You’re popular,” Nixon muttered.

She looked from the two of them to her letters. Three was definitely more than she’d been expecting, but not unwelcome at all. She shrugged. “Come on.”

By the time they reached the baseball fields, First and Third platoons had already started throwing balls around. They walked from the jeep over towards some tables at the edge of the field. They spotted Ron sitting on top of one, Grant beside him. The latter saw them first.

“Captain, Lieutenants.” He nodded to them as they came around in front of them.

“Where’s the smart money, Grant?” Harry asked. 

Grant smirked. He looked at the two teams practicing. “My money’s on First. Bull’s got a helluva swing,” he told them. “I’d say they’re the safe bet.”

Nixon snorted. “What’s the betting at?”

Grant shrugged. He pulled out a cigarette. With a light, he pointed towards Johnny’s group. “Last I checked, George had it three to one for Third.”

“Where is he?” Alice asked.

Grant pointed to another set of tables. “Hey! Luz!” 

At his shout, the man turned and headed towards them with a grin around his cigarette. Once he reached them, he nodded. “Sirs.”

They ended up exchanging quite a bit of money towards betting on the game. George kept a small sheet of paper with amounts and odds. Once Nixon and Harry had added theirs to the pool, he grinned and thanked them for doing business. Alice suspected he’d be getting a cut of the winnings. It surprised her a bit that Ron didn’t crack down on the gambling, but she supposed he was as tired of the rest of them of the boredom and stress.

Alice heaved herself up onto the table to Ron’s left. It didn’t take long for the game to start. Grant stayed with the rest of them as they settled. He got along splendidly with Ron. It actually surprised her how little Ron ruffled him. It surprised her how little Ron bothered any of them, considering that all through training and Normandy they’d been vehemently against her even associating with him for fear of something she didn’t quite understand. Maybe Dike had done one good thing; he’d made the enlisted beyond grateful for Ron Speirs.

With the baseball game underway, Alice lay back across the wooden table. She’d never been a huge fan of the game. The men had called her crazy. With the sounds of the athletes around her, and of her friends reacting to every play, she just closed her eyes and let the warm sun fall on her skin. With deep breaths, she did her best to just think about the fact that Nixon had asked her to marry him after the Pacific. She couldn’t help but smile at the sky. So even though the thought reminded her of how soon she’d be losing Dick and Nixon, at least she could think of what would come after.


	45. Chapter 45

**June 12, 1945**

With the morning sunlight on her skin, Alice stood on the landing where the steps turned down to the left, away from the hotel headquarters. The beauty of Austria spilled out before her eyes. The blue Zeller See stretched as far as she could see, flanked to either side by forested mountains. A few leafy trees grew tall from the ground just in front of her, their branches only about ten feet from her hands. Not for the first nor last time, Alice gave thanks that she had clean hair while the breeze ruffled it. Little victories. Clean hair had been something she’d come to appreciate as much as gold in the war.

She loved this. This peace, this purity. In the morning, standing out on the landing, Alice tried to forget about the war for the briefest of moments. Instead, Alice thought about maybe taking another warm bath with the rose and vanilla soap that someone had scrounged up. As she stood and watched the waves on the glacial lake, Alice forced away her worries over her friends. 

“Good morning.”

Alice jumped as Nixon whispered it in her right ear. As he just laughed, she growled at him, turning away from the Austrian scenery to glare. He continued to snicker, leaning against the rails perpendicular to her. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Though he apologized, his stupid grin never left his face. He tried to get himself under control. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Alice pointed out. “You’re not sorry!”

“Yeah you’re right.” He laughed. “I’m not.”

She folded her arms over her chest and did her best to glare at him. But as he stood there against the dark railing, his brown dress uniform on minus the Ike jacket, she found she couldn’t. Not when he laughed. She could never stay mad at him when he laughed. She’d come to value laughter far too much to spoil it.

“Fine you can stay,” she said. It took all her willpower not to grin as she turned back to watching the sunlight on the lake. She could feel him watching her. Finally she turned back. “Would you just enjoy the scenery.”

“What do you think I’m doing,” he quipped back with a smirk. 

Immediately she blushed with a grin. She had come to expect that answer, but it never ceased to floor her. After that, Alice couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off her face. Even when she turned away from him, the fact that he wouldn’t give up just staring at her made her laugh.

“Alright, Lewis Nixon, if you’re going to stare at me, let’s play.” Alice said. Leaning against the rail at the front to face him, she smiled. “Would you rather push Ron into the lake, or Harry?”

His smile dropped. Becoming very serious, he thought about the choices. “Dick’s not an option?”

“Dick goes swimming every day,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Probably Harry. Ron would try to kill me.” Her short laugh made him smile. But they both knew he was only half kidding. So he took a deep breath. “Right. Would you rather own a dog or cat?”

“I’ve answered this one before,” she pointed out. “My answer is always the same! Both.”

“Right, right,” he said, pretending to have forgotten. Then he smirked. “Do I get to go again?”

Alice smiled and shook her head. She poked his arm. “No. My turn.” When he nodded, she stepped a little closer. “Would you rather go swimming, or hiking?”

“Oh, god, no they both sound terrible,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I mean why would anyone want to go do that? There better be some really good company.”

She snorted and shook her head. Alice looked back over the Austrian landscape. The sunlight lit the whole area now. It warmed her skin, and she couldn’t help but just smile. Right then and there, she felt happy. 

“My turn. Would you rather go back to 1941 and never join the Resistance?” He didn’t smile when she turned to look at him. He just stayed serious and finished his question. “Or leave everything as it is.”

Alice didn’t smile. But she looked at him closely, forgetting the countryside around her. That question had come up time and again during the war. Her answers had varied every time. She’d not really known her final answer. Now she did.

“Je ne regrette rien,” she said, voice soft. 

“Final answer?”

“Oui, idiot.”

He grinned. “Good.”

They leaned into the kiss at the same time. He smelled of Vat 69. He always smelled of Vat 69. Her heart skipped a beat and her breathing almost stopped. Unbidden tears ran down her cheeks. When the salty tears reached her mouth, she broke it apart. She tried to catch her breath.

“Goddamnit. Why am I crying?,” she choked. 

“Yeah it is pretty stupid-” He flinched away with a laugh when she went to hit him. With a snort, he shook his head. “Sure you regret nothing?”

“Don’t tempt me.” But before she had a chance to add anything else, he kissed her again, harder. Alice couldn’t stop from smiling into the kiss. This time, she didn’t move away.

“For Pete's sake, can you two get any less discreet?”

Alice pulled back when Dick scolded them. They found him and a grinning Harry Welsh exiting the headquarters a few stairs up on the landing. Dick wore the same thing he wore every morning for his swims. With a towel over his arms he shook his head. But Harry just laughed as he lit a cigarette. Alice at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish. Nixon just snickered and folded his arms.

“Ah, c’mon Dick, it only took them three years,” Harry teased. “They’re making up for lost time.”

Dick shook his head. “Yeah, well, at least make sure the brass don’t know about it.”

“Anything for you, Dick,” Nixon heckled him. 

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Dick picked his way through them. Alice watched him leave. As he retreated down the forest road, she sighed. Lighting his own cigarette, Nix had settled down on the ground against the brown wrought iron rails on the top of the landing. Harry joined him, facing the opposite direction a couple steps down. Scooting through them as carefully as she could, Alice sat on Nixon’s side of the stairs. Silence fell between them for a while, a peaceful calm.

Eventually, Nixon broke the silence. He turned to Harry. “So, has Luz given you the ten bucks yet?” 

Harry started cracking up. “You know about that, do you?”

“George tells me everything, Harry,” Alice quipped.

“He slipped it to me after the ball game,” Harry admitted. “Guarnere’s going to have a field day getting the rest in the mail.”

Alice chuckled. She lay her head back, letting it settle between two of the bars in the railing. “Speaking of mail, I heard from Smokey.”

“No shit!” Harry said. “How’s he doing?”

“A lot better. He said they were planning to discharge him soon.” Taking out her pack of Lucky Strikes, Alice wrestled one free. Nixon lit it. “He’s got basically full movement back.”

Nixon let out a breath. “That’s good. You tell Doc?”

“Yeah, I did.” She smiled. “Gene was pretty happy. In a Gene sort of way.”

As both of them laughed at her comment, she moved from sitting against the rail to laying back against the concrete. She slipped off her Ike jacket, balled it up, and tried to use it as a pillow. After a minute of silence between the three of them, she asked Nixon if she could borrow his sunglasses. He said dramatically and passed them over. The combination of the warm sun on her body and the coolness of the sunglasses over her eyes had her asleep before too long.

The guys only noticed she’d drifted off after Nixon went to ask her a question about George’s gambling. When they got no response, he started chuckling. Harry joined him.

“She’s asleep?” he asked.

Nixon snickered. “Yep. Either that, or she finally decided we were bad company and is pretending.”

“I swear,” Harry joked, “she can sleep anywhere. It’s a gift.”

But Nixon just snorted. “Yeah, well, I don’t think she’s been sleeping well. She’s been more tired than usual.”

“What d’you mean?” Harry turned from her to Nix. “Do you know why?”

He shook his head, smiling fading. “I haven’t asked her.”

“You know, the other day we were processing a group of the Germans,” he told him. “I thought I’d have to hold her back again. She was so angry she was shaking.”

Nixon frowned. “Yeah. I know.”

They fell quiet again. Between puffs of a cigarette, Harry looked out over the Austrian countryside, at the peaceful bliss. They stayed like that for a while. A few people came and went, picking their ways over and around the three officers. Dick came back too before disappearing into the resort to change.

“So, you think Ron will stay?” Nixon asked. They’d started making predictions about the men they figured had enough points to leave. With Shifty on his way out the next day, it had started coming to the forefront. “I bet he will.”

Harry snorted. “Oh yeah, he’ll stay. Never thought I’d admit it out loud, but he’ll be good for Easy. They’ll need him when they jump.”

Nixon agreed. “Yeah, they will. What about you?”

After another sigh, Harry nodded. “Yep. I’ve made up my mind, Nix. I’ve got the points. I’m going back to Kitty.”

Nixon snickered at him. Any mention of Kitty was an opportunity to push his drinking buddy’s buttons. “Harry, do you really think Kitty hasn’t run off with some 4F by now?” 

“Son of a bitch,” Harry said. But he started chuckling too, shaking his head. “That’s not even funny.”

As Nixon stuck his cigarette back in his mouth, trying desperately to keep his insatiable laugh quiet so as not to wake Alice, heavy footfalls from inside came closer. They both glanced towards the door. Dick had a tiny smirk, shaking his head.

“Harry, ignore him,” Dick said. He stepped over Alice and around the two men to stand a bit lower than Harry. As he looked out over the lake, he unbuttoned his uniform jacket. Then he turned back to them.

“How am I supposed to tell her I had the chance to come home to her, finally, but decided not to so I could jump on Tokyo.”

Nixon smirked. “Alright. So don’t tell her!” After Harry laughed again, he continued, “Besides, she’s waited for you for three years, right? We’ll be to Tokyo and back in two years, three tops.”

“It’ll probably be over before you even get there,” argued Harry. He looked between Nixon and Dick, shaking his head. “The reality is, you’re gonna sit here in Austria for six months waiting to go, and I’m gonna be back in Wilkes-Barre, making babies.”

Dick glanced at Nixon. “You didn’t tell him?”

“No, I couldn’t get him to shut up,” Nixon drawled. He took a large breath of smoke, trying to suppress his smirk.

Harry’s smile faltered a little. He looked from Dick to Nixon. “What? Tell me what?”

“Guts and glory here applied for a transfer.”

No more smile, Harry whipped his head around to face Dick on his other side. “What?”

“The 13th Airborne are heading out to the Pacific right away,” Dick explained. He leaned on the railing. When Harry made no response other than intense confused silence, he tried to explain. “If I’m going, I wanna get it over with.”

Still silence. Harry watched Dick for a moment longer before twisting towards Nixon. The other man just shrugged. With a shake of his head, Harry said, “You’re in on this too?”

“I can’t let him go by himself! He doesn’t know where it is,” Nixon joked.

But Harry didn’t laugh at first. He just looked from Nixon to Alice sleeping beyond him. Then he turned back to Dick. “You’re leaving the men?”

Dick looked at him for a moment. With a small shake of his head, he just took a breath. “They don’t need me anymore.”

Harry watched him a moment longer before turning back to Nixon. He shook his head a bit. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He looked from Nixon, to Alice, and back. “You’re leaving Alice? To go jump on Tokyo?”

Any humor that had surrounded the discussion was gone. Nixon took a deep inhale of his cigarette. Then he shook his head. “She told me to go. I didn’t even ask.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. Turning from Nixon, he looked into the forest beyond the resort. Then he glanced at Dick, and then back to Nixon. “Three years later and she still manages to do things I don’t expect."

Nixon snorted. With a snicker, he also shook his head. “Yeah. I got used to that in Toccoa.”

Dick laughed under his breath. Silence filled only with the chirping of birds in the nearby trees surrounded them. All three of them stood or sat in thought, about what had and would happen to them over the next few months. 

“What happens when she gets discharged and you’re in Tokyo, Nix?” Harry finally asked. He turned to him, still with a small frown. 

He sighed. “I don’t know. But she said she’d marry me if I get back.”

Dick let out a half laugh, half cough at the news. Harry, though, just stared at him. “Wait. You proposed?”

“Sort of,” he admitted. “She caught me off guard, telling me to jump. I figured I should ask her before we transfer.”

Harry laughed. With a shake of his head, he turned to Dick who was also incredulous. Harry twisted around again. “You’re made for each other. You’re both insane. You don’t even have a ring, Lewis!”

“Hey! I told her I’d get one,” Nixon protested, laughing. Then he shook his head. “It’s just a ring anyways. I gave someone a ring already, once. By itself it means nothing.”

“Is Lewis Nixon being philosophical?” Dick joked in a deadpan.

"He did go to Yale."

“Shut up.”

Snickering, Harry looked over at her sleeping. She still hadn’t moved. The three chatted for a while longer enjoying the warmth of the sun and the mountain breeze. When lunch time came around, they woke her up. They still had some work to do that day. Mostly paperwork, Dick had been doing his best to figure out spots he could fill with men who had done more than their fair share during the war so they would be out of danger of jumping.

Alice spent quite a bit of time after getting work done wandering around by the lake. She joined George, Grant, Johnny, and Bull hiking. They wanted to try to get a deer for dinner. She refused to carry a rifle, but went along anyway. A side arm worked well enough for her those days.

By the time they’d gotten back to town, deer, in hand, it was past normal dinner time. She left them to their venison. Instead she found some leftovers from whatever the cooks had thrown together for the officers. The whole time, though, she felt distracted. Nixon had told her about Harry’s decision, and that they’d explained the transfer to him.

Around 2100 hours, she sought Harry out. Alice knocked on his door. 2100 hours was too early for any of them to be sleeping recently, so she didn’t worry about waking him. At least, she didn't worry too much.

When he opened the door, he looked at her with a smirk. “Nix doesn’t bunk with me anymore, Alice.”

She rolled her eyes. With a small scoff, she leaned against the door frame. But then her humor evaporated when she remembered why she’d needed him. “I have a question.”

He shrugged. Opening the door further for her, he let her in. “What’s up.”

“Is that one of Nix’s bottles?” Alice stopped in her tracks as she saw the telltale green Vat 69 bottle on his dresser, in front of the mirror. She shook her head with a small smile. “How’d you get one?”

“That’s your question?” But then he laughed. “I stole it.”

Alice shook her head. Turning back into the room, she leaned against the dresser. She folded her arms. “You don’t have to say yes to this. Please, don’t feel like you need to.”

Harry stopped laughing. “Okay. What’s the question?”

She bit her cheek. For a moment she just paused. But when Harry took a sip of the glass of Vat-69 he’d been nursing, she sighed. “Nix said you’re going home.”

“Yeah, I’ve got the points. Don’t see a reason not to,” he added. With a shake of his head, he let out a small laugh. “Those two are crazy.”

Alice shot him a sad smile. “Unfortunately one of them is my Crazy.” She paused again. “Harry, I’m going to get discharged when Easy jumps at the latest. And I don’t have anywhere to go.” She sighed. “I could go back to Aldbourne. I’m sure Millie would be happy to have me. But, uh. I’m not sure I can stay there. And I definitely can’t go to Paris.”

“Our house is your house,” Harry jumped in, cutting her off.

She glanced up at him. “Don’t say that if you don’t want-”

“First, Kitty would throw me out if I didn’t offer.” He started snickering as he took a drink. “When you get discharged, we’ll head back to Wilkes-Barre until that crazy fiance of yours is back.”

“We?” 

He shrugged. “I never said I was going home right now. I just don’t want to jump again. I’ll ask for my discharge when you get yours.”

“But Kitty-”

He laughed again. “Trust me. Kitty would insist.”

She broke out into a grin. Alice wasted no time in grabbing him in a huge as she tried to suppress her tears. “Thank you.”

“That crazy jerk from Yale’ll come back,” he told her. When she pulled out of the hug, he nodded. Then he started smiling. “Kitty’ll love having you until then.”

Alice laughed and shook her head. She dabbed at the few tears that had escaped. After thanking him again, she left him to finish his drink. It felt like a load had been lifted off her chest and shoulders. Feeling a little less alone, Alice went to bed.


	46. Chapter 46

**June 16, 1945**

Alice looked down at the papers shuffled her way. She stood in a room filled with other members of intelligence as well as three officers from the USSR. Sink and Strayer had gathered everyone together to do some discussion on what they felt would be a good way to maintain order in occupied Austria. She’d said her piece, reminding everyone of how the collapsed economy in Germany after the Great War had led to the Nazi regime. Not many had taken to that kindly, so she’d sat back and kept her mouth shut. 

They didn’t want her opinions, really. Least of all the three Soviets. Not that she could really blame them; her name was enough to tell them she was German. On the bright side, they hadn’t been bothered by her sex. One of them had even mentioned a few women in the context of the Soviet military.

So as they droned on, Nixon currently talking to one of the three Soviet men with Sink, Alice just sorted papers. She grabbed a file from the table and moved off to the side. This one was in German with only loose English translations. Mostly the translations were Russian. As she half-listened to Strayer and another Soviet arguing over Berlin like dogs over table scraps, she flipped open the file.

A photo had been paperclipped to the dossier. Becker, Franz. Rank of Oberstleutnant. Dark hair, greying. Large build. Fifty-seven years old. Commandant.

She read through the German report. With each sentence, she felt herself trembling more and more. Commandant. The man had been in charge of a labor camp in southern Germany. A labor camp just like Kaufering. Her grip on the file tightened. A note in Russian had been scribbled at the bottom.

Glancing up, Alice caught sight of the last of the three Russians. He stood by the table, reading through other files. She picked her over.

“Could you translate this, please?” she asked him. “Unfortunately Russian is not one of the languages I’m familiar with.”

As he turned towards her with a small smile, he looked from her face to the document. He nodded. “It’s a location. About ten miles East of here, up the mountain, a small house. One of our informants believes it may be this man.” He pointed to the picture. “We’ve not been able to confirm. But I believe it is true.”

Alice stared from him, to the black and white photo on the page. When he pointed out the location on a map, Alice nodded. Ten miles east. A commandant of a camp that had been built to eradicate her people lived quietly in a cottage ten miles east. With all her willpower, Alice forced herself to stop visibly shaking. She thanked him. 

She moved away. Shutting the folder, she lay it back down on the table. Sink stood to the side. With a grimace, Alice went over to him. “Sir?”

“What do you need, Lieutenant?” he asked. 

She sighed. “Sir I’m feeling a bit under the weather. May I be excused from the rest of this meeting?”

Sink looked at her with pity. “Of course. Go find one of the docs.”

“Thank you.” 

At the thought of the commandant living in peace while her sister wasted away from labor and disease and starvation for two years, Alice wanted to throw up. She couldn’t decide what she felt more: anger, or disgust. When she grabbed her Ike jacket off the back of a chair, Nixon caught her eye. She couldn’t even fake a smile. Instead, she just nodded to him and ducked out of the room through the glass-paned doors.

He didn’t deserve the live. He didn’t deserve to breathe while the men and women in his camp had been buried together as rotted corpses in mass graves, or burned until nothing remained to point to and identify. Fury coursed through her. She rushed out of the building.

Alice’s boots slammed against the concrete as she started down the stairs to the street. A few men saluted her as she hurried past. Alice missed them. She knew what she had to do. She knew what to be done. And she knew who would be happy to do it, too.

Grant, Bull, and Johnny were sitting around in the lounge of Easy’s hotel playing cards when she burst in through the doors. They looked over, snickering at something. When they saw her they stopped. 

“Where’s Liebgott?” she demanded.

Johnny shrugged. He turned to the other two. Grant gestured down the hall. “I think he was grabbing lunch. What’s up?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” she assured him. Without waiting to invite more questions, she hurried off. A large kitchen and dining room sat off the main level. When she moved inside, she found Liebgott and Skinny chatting over food, while Webster stood behind them making his own. “Lieb, come here.”

He glanced up at her harsh tone in surprise. But He did as asked. When they stood in a small side room, she looked at him. “I have a job for you.”

“Whatever you need, as always,” he joked.

“I have a lead on a camp commandant not far from here from one of the Soviet officers,” she told him. “I want you to take two men, people who will follow your orders. I don’t care if they listen to you because they like you, or because they have to. Find the man, and execute him for crimes against humanity.”

Liebgott stared at her in surprise. When she didn’t say anything else, he nodded. “Where’s the bastard living?”

“I wrote the coordinates here. Ten miles east, up the road into the mountain. Take a right at the fifth junction, it’ll bring you to a small house.” Alice handed him a small piece of paper.

He smirked. “He won’t be livin’ there for much longer, I can tell you that.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” she agreed. “Get it done, quietly.”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”

She watched him go back into the kitchen area. The nausea returned. For a brief moment, the fact that maybe this man wasn’t the suspect she’d decided he was entered mind. Had she just ordered the execution of an innocent man? But then her chest tightened. No, the Soviet officer had been convinced. It was. And Alice knew she’d never be able to sleep again if she let him live.

Alice refused to consider that ordering his death may mean she never slept again. They were at war. The treaty may have been signed, but the punishments hadn’t been doled out. And after several hours of listening to political posturing and lack of actual work, she knew she did what she had to do. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

And she kept telling herself that for hours. 

George and Malarkey found her nursing her third glass of wine outside a cafe in town at around 1600 hours. The two of them were strolling by, laughing. Catching sight of her, they hurried over.

“What’s new?” George asked, pulling a chair over to put his feet up, and plopping down on another. “You looked pissed.”

“Do I?” she snarked. “Go away.”

Malarkey snorted. “George, don’t piss her off further.”

“Ah, that’s my job though,” he said. Leaning forward, he grabbed her wine glass and finished it off. 

Alice gaped at him. “Hey! What the fuck, George!”

“Something tells me you didn’t need any more,” he pointed out. As his teasing turned serious, he put the glass back down and wiped his lips. “If you’re angry enough to finish three glasses of wine before dinner, you need to get cut off right now.”

She didn’t have a response. Turning from him to Malarkey, she wanted nothing more than to curse them out and go milk her anger in solitude. She groaned. “What do you two want.”

“Did you hear that Major Winters got denied his transfer?” George asked.

Alice turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, I was up at HQ. Caught him talking to Speirs and Nixon about it,” he said. “That’s when Webster showed up. He asked somethin’ about orders to take out a suspected Nazi.”

“Did he now.”

George nodded. He passed a cigarette to his left to Malarkey. The latter just watched them chatting, clearly already aware of where George was going with this. With a yawn, George pointed at her. “Just thought I’d give you fair warning that Speirs was a little pissed off that you gave orders to Easy without asking him.”

A mix of emotions flooded her. Relief that Dick and Nix wouldn’t be jumping right away, anger that they had the nerve to be upset with her, shame for what she’d done, and more anger that she even felt ashamed. When she didn’t respond, George sighed.

“I’m going for a walk,” she finally told them. Pushing out her chair, Alice stood from the table. “If the officers need me, I’ll be back after dinner.”

“Going by yourself?” Malarkey asked.

“I’ll go-”

“No,” she insisted. With a sigh, she shook her head. “No, I’m going alone. I’ve got a sidearm. I’ll be fine.” When George looked to object again, she insisted. “No, George.”

To her surprise, he agreed after a few moments of hesitation. Alice left them at the cafe. Her mind worked overtime as she wandered through the city and finally out to the lake. A thousand thoughts, all of them culminating in the realization of just how tired she felt.

Her dreams had been filled with death. Some days it was Bastogne, the wet-cold seeping into her clothes, frostbite on her fingers. She could see the stark contrast of red blood against white snow. The screams of artillery and men alike echoed in her ears until she woke in a sweat. 

Other times, the bullet wound on her left arm ached. She relived the haze, the smoke and flames and rubble of Eindhoven. The baby crushed beneath the fallen bricks played like a newsreel in her dreams. Her screams mingled with Elsa’s own as Alice tried, desperately, to reach her. She never did.

She never reached Bernadette either. She’d never been able to reach her in her dreams in training, and in Austria nothing changed. Except instead of a Nazi putting a bullet in her brain in Paris, the nightmares involved gaunt camp prisoners grabbing at her and dragging her down, and Bernadette along with her.

She thought a lot about Robert, too. The realization that she had let her anger start controlling her, just as she scolded her older brother for time and again in the Maquis, hit her hard. Anger made her reckless and impulsive. She’d yelled at him for that. Now that’s what she was doing.

Alice stopped at a small picnic area that had been set up near the lake. The sun had started to set. She’d need to turn around. With a small sigh, Alice sat on a bench and looked out over the lake. Alice stood up after a minute. She walked to the edge and looked down.

Nix said Adélaïde was in there somewhere. He said Adélaïde hadn’t been weak. She sighed again. For a moment, all she wanted was to be Adélaïde again. Carefree, happy, worried about her next exam, not about whether or not the choices she made held terrible moral implications. She wanted to go back to when she and Juliette and Genevieve had worried more over what dress to wear to a party, not if the newspaper they’d written held enough anti-propaganda to be effective.

The sun had started to set. She turned from her reflection. Every single one of her friends would probably kill her if she stayed out too long after dark. So she started back to the resort.


	47. Chapter 47

When she finally reached the road heading up, Alice slowed a bit. The inevitable scolding she’d receive from the other officers lay in wait for her. She sighed. She knew it was at least a bit warranted she supposed. The war had ended; she needed to accept that and forgive the Germans, the people she had defended so long as being victims like the rest of Europe.

She found Ron and Talbert chatting at the base of the resort, both leaning against a wall, arms crossed. Not too far, Gene and Spina sat at a table with Lipton. A few other men of both Easy and Dog wandered around. When Ron caught sight of her, he shook his head and pushed off the wall. He met Alice a ways away from the enlisted.

“You pulled a hell of a stunt, Alice,” he snapped, lighting a cigarette. “Are you insane? Ordering Liebgott to take out that Nazi?”

“He’s a fucking Nazi,” she argued back. “I’m an officer like all the rest of you! I have a right to give them orders.”

Ron scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head. “Jesus christ, this isn’t about your fucking rank, Alice. This is about you giving orders to execute a man who hadn’t been officially ID’d as the enemy.”

Shouts and the roar of a jeep engine filled the area as a pair of young enlisted men swerved into the parking zone. Ron and Alice jumped back. They shouted desperately for a medic. As they leapt from the jeep, she, Ron, Gene, and Spina converged on the jeep.

“What happened?” Ron demanded. He grabbed one of the enlisted men and shook him. “Private White!”

“Sir, it’s Sergeant Grant,” he said. The young man tried to catch his breath. As Ron and Alice moved from him to the back of the truck, he attempted to explain, rambling about an American soldier shooting him and several other men.

Alice reached the back at the same time as Gene and Spina. Grant had been laid across the back seats, unconscious but breathing. They couldn’t see anything. Gene cursed. Flipping out her lighter, she handed it to the medic.

The small flame did a poor but manageable jump of illuminating Grant’s still body. A hasty bandage had been wrapped around his skull. Gene ordered Spina to go find medical supplies while he inspected the wound. Ron tore himself from the medic and Alice to interrogate the frightened replacements of Easy who had been with him. She could see Ron trembling in anger.

“We gotta get him to the aid station, now!” Gene snapped. He handed the lighter back to Alice. “He’s still breathing, but I don’t got a clue how long he’ll stay that way. Captain!”

Ron turned from them at his call. He hurried over to them. As Gene explained the situation, he nodded, staying quiet. When Gene finished, Ron turned to Alice. “Take those two, get them back to Easy’s HQ, calm them down. I want you to get Easy prepped. I’ll send Talbert with further instructions.”

“Right.”

With a last look at Grant’s fair, still face in the dark, she turned away. Spina rushed over, handing what he could to Gene as Ron and Talbert barreled into the front and the medic took the back with Grant. They sped off with a roar.

Once the jeep had faded in the darkness, Alice turned her attention to the privates. Privates Derek White and Jack Crosby, if she remembered correctly. They’d only arrived upon the capture of Berchtesgaden. Both stood, shocked. She walked over to them.

“You boys did a good job,” she said. Alice tried to smile at them. “Really. I’m sure if someone hadn’t reacted as quickly, he wouldn’t have half the chance he’s got now.”

White glanced up at her. He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Come on. Easy needs a report,” she told them.

It didn’t take long for them to follow her as she moved with purpose down the road towards the rest of the large hotels. Along the way she flagged down one of the MPs. She brought him up to speed with what she knew. Soon enough he’d rushed off to alert his superiors and try to clean up the carnage on the road.

A dozen of Easy’s men, mostly replacements, lounged outside on the large patio outside the headquarters. She snapped at them to meet her inside. At her tone, they didn’t protest. Alice found most of the Toccoa men messing around in the dining room with cards and a dart board someone had found.

Alice raised her voice to be heard over the din. “Everybody listen up!” When they quieted down, most looking at her in surprise, she tried to explain. “Sergeant Grant’s been shot.”

The men burst into expletives and abandoned their leisure activities. But Alice shouted for them to shut up. They did so.

“Captain Speirs and Talbert are with Doc Roe, taking him to the aid station. Until then, everybody stays here.” She looked pointedly at the Toccoa men. Liebgott, Johnny, Bull, and even George looked about ready to rush the door. “Speirs put me in charge so you’re going to listen to me until he or First Sergeant Talbert gets back.” 

The last bit she aimed at the replacements. Those who had come to Easy after Janovec’s group had never dealt with her much. Without Bill, Alice had no idea if the Toccoa guys had been as proactive at shutting down their objections to her existence. When no one objected out loud, she nodded.

“That being said,” she added, “get your gear.”

At the dismissal, most of the men rushed off to speak to anyone not present, and to get their guns and ammo. Most of the Toccoa men stayed put, though. She’d expected it. Before she could explain more, though, Alice turned to Spina who had come with them. “Take these two and get them some coffee or something, Spina.”

“Consider it done.”

As Spina led White and Crosby off to relax a bit, Alice watched. She knew he’d take care of them. It didn’t take long for about a dozen of her friends to swarm her. She immediately recognized George, Johnny, Malarkey, Liebgott, Bull, Ramirez, Alley, Skinny, Babe, Perconte, Popeye, and More, but after that, she stopped caring who exactly was there or had joined them.

“I don’t know much,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. Alice sighed. “White and Crosby brought him in. Said he’d been shot by a drunk American soldier. I think I heard them say he was from the 506th,” she added. As they grumbled and cursed, she just nodded. 

“How bad was he shot?” George asked.

Alice paused. At her silence, several men removed their cigarettes or shifted from foot to foot. “He was shot in the head.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Liebgott snapped. 

All around her, similar sentiments were echoed by the others. She let them curse their hearts out for a minute before quieting them down. “He was breathing when they left. Gene is hoping the surgeon at the aid station can help.” She shook her head. “Speirs said he’d send Tab with orders once they have a handle on the situation. Until then, everybody sits tight. I mean it,” she added.

And that’s what they did. After gathering rifles and ammo, the men moved into the basement of the hotel. The area was larger than the lounge, more side rooms to sit and brood. For twenty minutes they sat or stood, most in silence, all of them thinking about Grant and the mystery shooter. 

Alice stayed with them, just as quiet. Her mind raced. How an American could fire on his own countryman, she couldn’t quite understand. She supposed alcohol could do a lot to a person. But a line blurred in her thoughts between hating the Germans for being bad, and realizing that even the Americans continued to do their fair share of evil.

When Talbert burst in through the side door, the men shot up. He looked at Alice, and when she nodded back, he started giving orders. “He wants a Non-Com guarding each roadblock with at least two men guarding every road out of town.” 

Talbert pushed through the hallway of men towards the center room. More and more men poured out of side rooms and crowded around him. “Bull! Malark! You each take a squad and one of the witnesses on a house-to-house search.”

“Can we shoot the bastard on sight?” Malarkey asked.

Talbert shook his head. They reached the main entrance way up a few stairs. He flipped on the lights. “Try and take him alive.” As someone asked where Grant and Speirs were, Talbert turned around. “They took him to a Kraut hospital, to see if they could drum up any good doctors.”

As the men filed out, squads following squad leaders, Talbert stood to the side. He looked worn, face drawn and arms across his chest. Alice joined him as the last few men of Easy fled the room.

“What’d the doctor say?” she asked.

He sighed. “Said he had no chance, not without a brain surgeon. So Speirs figured he’d go find one.”

With a deep breath, she nodded. Her whole body itched to join the men on the search party. But instead she stayed with Talbert. While they waited, they played a game of cards. She could see him doing his best to stay calm but the way his hands would shake when he dealt told her enough to know he was far from it.

It took forty minutes before they heard anything. Instead of just news, though, a half dozen men including More, Johnny, and Skinny, jostled a bloody private into the main room. He had a smirk on his face despite the bruising. It didn’t take more than a moment before George, Liebgott, and Perconte had come back as well. 

“Put him in there,” Talbert said. He pointed to a door off the side. They complied with glee.

After only a few minutes, they heard the first punch thrown. As more and more Toccoa men returned, leaving the replacements to go sulk in a basement somewhere, the beatings only got worse. Talbert stood by the front door. She saw him trying to block it out. 

When George joined them a moment later, she just gestured to Talbert. He didn’t say anything in return. Instead, he walked right over to him.

Alice decided to leave them to chat. The noise of the man getting torn to pieces, a replacement from I Company, someone had said, didn’t bother her. Not really, at least. He deserved it, and the men who considered Grant basically family needed to get their anger out some way. She moved past George and Talbert out into the dark street.

She took a walk around the area. Eventually finding a few MPs, she got a report on what had happened at the scene of the crime. The man had shot two German POWs and, more condemning for him, a Major in the British Army and the man’s driver. And then he’d shot Grant. The MPs said he’d been found in town.

Alice stopped listening to the police explain how they’d found Grant’s shooter. At the word “rape,” she stopped breathing. A combination of anger and fear gripped her heart. Memories of cold hands between her thighs crashed into her. She saw red.

Her boots pounded against concrete and tarmac as she hurried towards Easy’s HQ. Every part of her body wanted nothing more than to see the man who had dared touch the Austrian girl. She wanted to see the monster. She’d never gotten to see the face of the men from H Company who had tried, and failed, to rape her. She’d never gotten to give them her own response. She wouldn’t miss that opportunity again.

Easy’s headquarters finally rose up in front of her. The lights of the main hall flooded out through the windows along the side. She bounded up the half dozen steps two at a time. With a hefty push, Alice threw the doors open.

In the middle of the entryway, Liebgott and Johnny held him up. Private Floyd Carver, I Company. Blood dripped from his face, plastered in his hair and across his swollen jaw. Deep bruising had already started to form on his skin. But instead of moving her to pity, all it did was remind her of the bruises on her own wrists and abdomen and neck. She froze again.

“Grant’s gonna live,” George said.

She noticed him for the first time. He and Talbert stood together to the right, watching her closely. Behind Lieb and Johnny, Bull stood with Malarkey, Perco, Babe, and More. She didn’t spare them more than a glance.

Alice took a few steps closer to the man who all but dangled between her friends. She looked at him, disgusted. This had gone further than Grant. “Did you do it?”

“Do what,” he sputtered.

She felt her heart beat rapidly increasing. Alice struggled to breathe. Her hands shook. “Did you rape her?” She spoke each word firm and slow. 

“So what if I did,” he choked out. With a smirk he shook his head. “Fuckin’ broad was askin’ for it wearin’ that skirt she had.”

_“Do you know what we do to Germans who betray the Fatherland?”_

Words left her. She could feel the men around her watching her every mood. She shook a bit. Cold hands trailed up her skin and clamped over her mouth. Anger, disgust, fear filled her body. Alice took a deep breath. That was then. This was now.

She drew her pistol. The air left the room. The man stopped laughing.

Just as she raised the gun, George moved in front of her. He stood between her and the replacement, hands up to keep her back. Alice glared at him.

“Get out of my way, George,” she ordered.

“No.” 

He didn’t budge. The cigarette he’d been smoking fell to the ground as he shook his head. Alice glared at him. How dare he stand between her and what was justice. She felt her hand shaking. The gun rattled. 

“It’s no more than he deserves,” she snapped.

George glanced from her to Talbert behind her. Then he glanced back. “Fucking right. He deserves to be put in the ground. But not by you.” He paused. “Let the MPs do it.”

“George, move!” 

“No.”

She looked at the gun in her hands. It trembled. George stood between her and justice. He stood between her and vengeance. The word caused her heart to drop. She’d spent all day regretting acting out of vengeance against the suspected, but not convicted, Nazi. Here she was, doing it again, history repeating itself. It had to end.

She put the gun down. The men started breathing again. Alice tried to do the same. Her heart raced. “Get him out of my sight,” she said. As they pushed him past, she added, “Before he asks to get shot.”

Soon she stood in the quiet entrance way with only George, Malarkey, and Talbert. None of them spoke. Alice fought herself, between fear and memories of cold hands, blood, and gunshots, and the pain of letting the man get away with his life. She couldn’t speak. 

George took her gun. “Come on. It’s late.”

“She’s going to have to live with this, for the rest of her life,” Alice said, voice low. “Forever. While he gets to move on.”

None of them had an answer. But she straightened up and took the gun back from George, slipping it in its holster. After looking at all three of them, she headed out the door. George followed her. The other two stayed back in silence.

When they reached HQ, Alice went straight up the stairs. She didn’t say anything to George, but she did give him a nod that she hoped conveyed everything she couldn’t put into words. He watched her go.

Alice only turned one lamp on. Her watch read just past 2300 hours. Exhaustion consumed her. But despite her incredible desire to rest, she couldn’t. Too many memories, too much to think about. She stripped down to her undershirt and shorts. Alice all but collapsed onto her bed against the dark wooden headboard. 

At about 0015, a small knock pulled her out of her memories. All her conversations with Robert about controlling himself, about not letting his anger consume him, had been running through her mind. For a moment she considered ignoring it. But she didn’t.

Alice unlocked the door to find Nixon waiting. She tried to force a smile, but she couldn’t. He offered her his flask. With a sigh, she let him in.

“Helluva day,” he murmured. Then he tried to joke, “Did not expect to find George Luz at my door tonight, I’ll tell you that.”

Trying not to cry, she choked on her tears. “God, I’m so tired of this.” She couldn’t stop herself from crying though when he hugged her. Unable to control her emotions, she sobbed. All the anger, the fear, the memories spilled from her. For almost twenty minutes she just wept. 

“I’ll stay here tonight,” he mumbled into her hair. “The Brass can deal with it. It’s like sharing a foxhole, but more comfy.”

Alice, slightly more in control, just nodded. Like a foxhole, but more comfy. She tried to dry her face when she pulled away. No words came though. Climbing into the bed, she just pulled on the covers and tried to stop shaking. Nixon flipped the light off a few minutes later. With his warm body reminding her of the present, she drifted off.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy V-E Day, lovelies

**July 6, 1945**

Alice always seemed to find her way back to the water. The sun had yet to rise, a gentle darkness still over the world as she walked down the dock to the edge. Just as she settled down, taking her boots and socks off, the sun began to cast rays of light into the sky. She took a deep breath.

A breeze rustled the trees and disturbed the surface of the lake. Birdsong echoed around her, increasing as the sun continued to rise. No voices, just the harmony of nature. Alice took another breath. She let the cool, clear air settle in her lungs.

She dangled her legs off the edge. The water shocked her system briefly, the lake still chilly despite it being midsummer. As the sky lightened, the lake became the near-glass she’d gotten used to. The birds sang louder, more frequent. Alice moved her feet to keep inquisitive fish away. The ripples spread out into the lake, endless.

Rolling her neck, Alice tried to relax her muscles. She shifted off her shirt leaving just the tank top underneath. The sun, now above the horizon enough to light the whole area, warmed her skin. Dozens of songbirds echoed around her now. It was almost deafening.

Alice figured she must’ve been there an hour. With her knees bent and the bare pads of her feet against the slate dock, she laid back and used her top shirt as a small pillow. Her eyes closed against the bright sun. She breathed.

A few minutes later, footsteps against the stones made her sit up and twist around. She relaxed a bit. Malarkey strolled over towards her, hands in his pockets. Alice smiled. Crouching down next to her, he looked out over the water.

“Nice spot,” he said. “Is this where you always are?”

Alice smiled. She shrugged. “I like it.” Scooting over a bit, she gave him a bit more room on her right. “How’s life been acting as a First Sergeant?”

With a small laugh under his breath, he settled down on the dock. “Well, I don’t blame Tab for stepping down.”

She nodded. They sat in silence for a while, the birds quieting down to a manageable level with the morning wearing on. Laying back down, Alice closed her eyes.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” Malarkey asked her.

She opened her eyes again. Above her blue skies and a few white clouds filled her view. “There’s no way not to go, Malark.”

He let out a tiny laugh. “Yeah, guess that’s true.”

Sink had planned an American Independence Day party for the 506th, but the weather had been downright awful the 4th and the 5th. But Sink had other ideas. Never one to be told no, the Colonel had gotten it all organized for that night, and the enlisted and officers would be able to party all night. Alice didn’t like it. The last thing they needed was more alcohol.

Grant had been sent to Paris, and would probably be moved to England soon. As much as thinking about that night still pained her, Alice had been working as hard as she could to forgive, more for her own sake than anything else. She hurt nothing but herself by holding onto it.

Then news of Shifty’s car accident had gotten to them. Alice had hugged him for half a minute when he was ready to leave. She hadn’t wanted to let go. But she’d bit back her tears as he thanked her for her kindness and her dedication and everything Alice felt she didn’t deserve to hear. But because of some drunk jackass, he was laid up in a hospital.

Janovec had been killed in an accident a few days previous. Alice hadn’t even gotten to see his body. Webster had explained it all. If she thought Webster would’ve accepted it, she’d have given him a hug. He looked so sad. As much as she was loathe to admit, though, Alice felt almost numb to the death at this point. And that upset her more than anything.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you go home?” Alice asked, a few minutes later.

“Sleep in my own bed for a week.” Malarkey answered so fast, it made Alice pause. With a small yawn, he turned towards her. She still lay on her back. The top shirt balled up under her head acted like a crude pillow. “You?”

“That’s a good one,” she admitted. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Probably just sleep for a year.” With a sigh, she put an arm over her eyes to block out the sun. “Maybe I’ll go back to school and finish my degree.”

“So you’re coming back to America, right?” he ventured.

Alice removed her arm and glanced at him. The smirk on his face said enough. She sighed. “How many people know about us.”

With a chuckle, he shook his head. “Pretty sure only a few of us. Johnny, Perco, Bull, me, probably Lieb. I’m sure Tab knows. And you know the officers better than me.”

“Harry definitely knows,” she muttered. “I’m positive that Speirs knows. There’s just no way he doesn’t.”

Malarkey let out a small snort of amusement. He shook his head. “At least you get to come back to America,” he said.

Alice sat up. She nodded, placing her feet back in the chilly water.. “I spoke to Colonel Sink. He said he’s going to see that I get citizenship.” She yawned again. “What time is it?”

“Just about 1000 hours.”

Pulling her feet out of the water, Alice struggled up. She used her shirt to dry off. There was still work to do before they could start celebrating. Once she had laced up her boots, Alice set off towards town.

After a brief lunch by herself and finishing up a stack of paperwork that Sink had pushed her way for her application for citizenship, Alice got ready for the afternoon party. She had no doubt it would go well into the night. Soon she wore her finest dress uniform.

Alice found Harry first. He was out in the gardens. As her boots went from concrete to grass, she almost stopped to marvel at the neverending beauty of Lake Zell. But Harry caught sight of her and she went to him instead. She joined him in leaning against the stone half wall, looking into the party.

“Did you hear about Malarkey?” Harry asked.

As she sipped at a glass of champagne, she shook her head. Alice looked at him in confusion. “What about him.”

He smiled. “Dick found him a position to get him out of any danger of jumping into the Pacific.” As they spoke, she saw Dick and Nixon across the way chatting quietly. Harry turned back to her. “Some sort of military advisor job in Paris.”

“Thank God,” she muttered. “When’s he going?”

“Tomorrow.”

Alice froze. The champagne glass froze on her lips. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and Lip’s getting transferred into Battalion HQ.” Harry took another drink from his half empty champagne glass. “He deserves it.”

They stood in silence for a while, watching as officers and a few enlisted wandered about. Colonel Sink still chatted with Strayer and some officers of HQ Company across the way. Before long, Malarkey and Lipton both wandered in. Nixon slipped away from Dick to join Alice and Harry.

“What’s the point of champagne,” he complained. Nixon settled leaning against the half-wall on Alice’s other side. “It’s too weak for celebrating.”

She snorted. “Only to you, Nix.”

“All I’m saying is whiskey would be better.”

Harry started laughing. He shook his head. “I’m not disagreeing, but good luck with that.”

Tuning them out, Alice watched Dick and Malark. A tightness in her chest only increased as she watched them talking. Malarkey would be leaving. He certainly wasn’t the first one, but Alice hadn’t expected him to be going just yet. She knew that saying goodbye meant the war continued to come to a close, and that was wonderful news, but she worried about how they would cope afterwards. She worried about how she would cope afterwards.

Still, she couldn’t help but smile when Malarkey saluted, and Dick returned it instead with a handshake. They both, they all, knew Malarkey had done more than enough in service of his country and his friends. He had lost almost everyone; of anyone in Easy, she figured Malarkey to be the only one to grasp grief like she did.

When Malarkey moved away, leaving Dick to speak with Lip, she pushed off the wall and left the officers to go join him. She smiled. As he caught sight of her and waited, Alice took a drink of her champagne.

“Guess I get to see Paris afterall,” he joked.

Alice grinned. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I should’ve paid better attention to your French lectures in training.” With a shake of his head, he laughed a bit. “I can’t believe it.”

Emotions gripped her chest. Alice grabbed him in a hug, not caring if anyone around them would judge. She held him tight. When she finally drew back, she tried desperately to wipe off any teams before they were noticed.

“I’ll give you the names of my friends in Paris,” she assured him. “You can ask them for anything.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” A pause followed before he continued. “In case I don’t see you-”

“Don’t even think that,” she snapped. Alice shook her head. “There’s not a possibility Don. We’ll both be in America eventually.”

“You are one of the most inspiring people I’ve ever met, Alice,” he continued. He didn’t waver, just kept his voice steady. “It’s been an honor.”

She choked back a sob. Alice bit her cheek, willing the tightness in her throat to go away. But it wouldn’t. Finally, she found her voice. “Thank you. The feeling is mutual. I fought for my own home, but you fought for my home, someone else’s home. That’s something I will never, ever forget.”

With a tiny laugh, he shook his head. “Long way from when I demanded to know why we’d be serving with a girl.”

Alice could keep herself from laughing at the callback to Toccoa. The humorous memory let her release the tension building in her body. As she grinned, so did he. She shook her head. “Well. I’m glad I could change your mind.”

“When the war’s over, you gotta come meet my family,” he insisted.

As she went to respond, Dick called over to her. She glanced at him. He and the other officers were chatting and looked to be getting ready to go. She turned back to Malarkey. “I need to meet your brothers.” She gave him one last hug. “I’ll try to find you before you leave tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Alice. Thanks.”

“Thank you,” she insisted.

With that, she turned away and hurried after Dick. They had congregated towards the gate from the garden. Soon enough, she left the gardens with Lipton, Nix, and Dick. On the way, Nixon explained that a German General wanted to surrender and she’d potentially be needed as a translator.

They barreled into a jeep and with Dick at the wheel, soon made their way down to the airfield. The afternoon was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Whenever she started wishing for it to be a bit colder, Alice reminded herself of Bastogne. All thoughts of wishing for cold evaporated immediately at the thought.

When the jeep pulled into the airfield, it was to the sight of a hundred Germans. At the head of the regiment, Liebgott stood by a General. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to translate. Nevertheless, as Liebgott went towards the car, she pushed out of the jeep and went up to the general.

At the sight of Alice, the General stopped. She held his gaze for a moment, neither looking away. Instead of getting defensive, though, Alice just smirked. The knowledge that this general would have to surrender to Lipton was too amusing not to focus on.

Behind her, Nixon, Dick, and Lipton watched her. As Liebgott came up, and they heard Alice start speaking to the General in German, Nixon turned to him. He asked him to translate.

“She asked if he’s surprised to see her. He’s not,” Lieb added. He continued to listen to their conversation, eyes widening. “He says she’s a disgrace, that at least we’re fighting for our country. But, that she’s a traitor.”

Everyone in the jeep stiffened. But just as Liebgott was about to step in, furious, he stopped. Alice’s words made him shake his head. “She said that Germany betrayed her first. And that he lost to a bunch of Yanks who couldn’t even point to Germany on a map, so who’s the bigger fool?”

At her last statement and Liebgott’s translation, they all started snickering. Dick and Lipton managed to suppress it more than Lieb or Nix, but they were all quite amused. Liebgott told Lipton she’d explained he’d be surrendering to Lip. As she turned away and Lipton moved to get the job done, though, they all stopped. Alice watched him.

Captain Herbert Sobel stalked through the airfield, an aid at his side. Alice ended up standing a few feet from Liebgott. When the Staff Sergeant on Sobel’s left saluted Dick, she felt giddy that she’d get to see Sobel salute him.

But he didn’t.

“Captain Sobel,” Dick said. But when the man kept walking, merely acknowledging him with his title, he raised his voice. “Captain Sobel!”

The man paused in his step. Even turned away from her, Alice could see his entire body deflate. He tried to look everywhere but Dick.

“We salute the rank, not the man.”

At his words, Alice’s mouth nearly dropped to the floor. She immediately looked at Dick and then past him, at Nixon. She could see the corner of Nix’s mouth twitching as he tried his hardest to suppress a smirk. Liebgott did nothing of the sort, quite fine with having Sobel see his disdain. As for the man himself, he shrank. But to his credit, he did in fact salute.

“Captain.” Alice grinned as he walked past. For the first time since knowing Sobel, she raised her arm in a proper, eager salute. As Dick’s words still hung in the air, she bit her cheek to keep from laughing as he sped off.

Dick looked at her and smiled. She returned the gesture as Nixon shook his head at their antics. But she knew he’d enjoyed it as much as they had. And beside them, Liebgott looked more pleased than she’d ever seen him.

And if she were honest with herself, the little petty revenge had done wonders to soothe her nerves. She supposed she’d have to work on that one, too. Even as Liebgott translated the speech from the General for the other two, she couldn’t help but smile from where she stood near Nixon behind the jeep. Even she had to admit the General was an eloquent speaker. And she had to agree. They all deserved long and happy lives in peace.


	49. Chapter 49

**July 25, 1945**

Going to bed at 0300 when he had to be up at 0630 had not been Nixon’s brightest idea. Why Sink had seen it necessary for him to sit in on a briefing about the Pacific Theater at 0700, he didn’t know. All he knew was that Sink had never specified a need for a dress uniform, so he’d rolled into the meeting in basic fatigues. No one said anything. Nixon decided that was good enough.

He hoped Alice got to sleep in. Even if she was more inclined to get up with the sun than him, four hours of sleep wasn’t enough for anyone. Besides, he felt a little bad he would probably be the cause of a hangover for her. The case of Vat 69 he’d gotten had been too tempting.

Once 0800 rolled around and the briefing ended, Nixon had planned on going back to bed. But clearly the war had other plans, because not five seconds after he’d walked into the lobby of Hotel Zell and Zielinski flagged him down.

“Sir, do you know where Major Winters is?” he asked.

Nixon sighed. He shook his head. “Not off the top of my head, private. Why?”

“Package came in for him. He’d been asking about it,” Zielinski explained.

Looking at the package in the orderly’s arms, he frowned. Dick hadn’t mentioned anything about expecting a delivery. He shrugged. “Here, I’ll track him down.”

Zielinski nodded. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see if I can’t find you something to make it worth it,” he added, smirking.

Scoffing, Nixon took the package with a small smile. As the private hurried away, he took a deep breath. So much for going back to bed. He checked his watch. 0810 hours. Dick was probably getting ready for a swim, or down at the lake already. With another yawn, Nixon headed outside.

He found Lipton outside. He’d been talking to Talbert it looked like, but as the sergeant walked away, he just stood quietly. Nixon flagged him down. “Hey, Lip, you seen Major Winters?”

“He’s down by the lake, sir.” With a tiny smirk, he folded his arms and waited for Nixon to join him. “How was your briefing?”

Nixon rolled his eyes. “About as informative as usual. It told me nothing.”

With a small laugh, Lipton nodded. “Well, at least we’re in briefings and not battle.”

“The one small victory,” he agreed.

Leaving Lipton to do whatever it was he was doing, Nixon began the trudging, slow walk down the road to lake level. Lip’s words rang in his ears. Briefings, not battles. The briefing on the PTO had told him one thing; they were going to win at some point. Rumors had been flying around intelligence of the paperwork being drawn up by the Allied governments for terms of surrender for Japan. The Potsdam Conference continued to see developments for that for Germany, too.

That meant the return home was one step closer. As excited as he was to finally get to marry Alice, the looming threat of his family’s condemnation hung over the joy. It didn’t help matters that his family didn’t even know Alice existed. He had no interest in showing up only for her to get screamed at by his father.

If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to deal with Stanhope Nixon either. He’d much rather live out the rest of his life with the friends he’d made in the Army. They meant more to him than any blood relation.

Well, except for Blanche. His sister needed him. That’s why he stayed. That’s why he put up with the drama and the drinking and the yelling of their father. Convincing her to live with their mom in San Francisco had helped some. But based on Blanche’s most recent letters, their mom had been more and more upset with their father. The tension couldn’t be good for any of them.

Nixon sighed as he finally reached the small path to the lake. It didn’t take him long to spot Dick standing there, looking out over the lake. He forced a smirk. “Thought it might be you.”

Dick turned to look his way. With a tiny smile, he looked at his watch. “Good morning!”

“I heard reports about a red-headed Eskimo. Figured I should check it out,” he teased.

“Come to join me for a morning swim?”

At Dick’s smirk, Nixon just started to chuckle. “Yeah. You know me so well,” he snarked. Plunking himself down on the stones next to Dick, he held out the package. “Here. That’s from Zielinski.”

“Oh?” Dick grabbed it from him. Forgetting about the swim for a moment, he turned away from the water and sat down next to Nixon. “Great!”

Nixon watched as he began to unwrap the twine. Once Dick had gotten into the paper wrapping, he narrowed his eyes. “What is that?”

“I ran into the Regimental Photographer. He said he had all these photographs of the 506th, going all the way back to Toccoa.” Dick dropped the packaging to the ground and began opening an accordion folder. He smiled. “I traded him for a couple of Lugers.”

“That’s a bargain.”

Dick nodded. He smiled as his gaze fell on a particular photo. He pulled it out and passed it over. Nixon took it gladly. For a moment he stared down at the black and white image, one of himself and Dick three years early, fresh faced Lieutenants not knowing what they were getting themselves into. He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Then he frowned though.

“You know who’s not gonna be in those,” he muttered.

Dick paused midway through rifling through the others. After a moment, he turned to his friend. “Yeah.”

“It’s isn’t fair.” With a shake of his head, he handed the photo back to Dick. “She did as much as any of us.”

“Yeah,” he agreed again. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that, though. I may have a way around it, but I need to talk to Christenson first.”

“Christenson?” Nixon looked at him in confusion.

Dick smiled. “He’s an artist. A darn good one, too.”

Breaking out into a small grin, Nixon shook his head. That was one way to get around the no photos rule. As Dick went back to looking through the photos, he sighed. “What do you think you’ll do after this?” he ventured.

“Get some breakfast.”

Nixon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “No. After after.”

It took a moment before Dick turned to him. As usual, Dick’s expression betrayed almost nothing. But he put the photos into the folder and nodded. “Well, it’s funny you should mention it, ‘cause I had a meeting with Colonel Sink.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, discussed the possibility of staying.”

Nixon’s eyes widened. “In the army?”

“Yeah, yeah. As a career.”

“What’d you say?”

He shook his head. Dick turned away for a moment before looking back. “I said I’d think about it.” As Nixon stayed quiet, looking away, he frowned. “Have you thought about how you’re going to break the news about Alice to your family?”

Nixon shook his head, peeling little bits of bark off a stick he’d picked up. He sighed. “No. No I haven’t.”

“You gotta tell them before you get home, Nix,” Dick reminded him. “It’s not fair to Alice not to.”

“Yeah, I know that.” He shook his head again. “When this war’s over, then Alice gets discharged and I can tell them. I’ll write a letter or something.”

Dick sighed. “Or something?”

“What do you want, Dick?”

“Nothing.” Dick let silence fall between them again. But after a moment, he turned to his friend. “Are you planning to live in New Jersey or San Francisco?”

Nixon shook his head. “Definitely New Jersey. I won’t put Alice in the San Francisco spotlight. The papers would eat it up if I came home with a girl after the lovely Katherine Page divorced me.” He hadn’t meant the last bit to sound bitter. Kathy wasn’t a bad person, but neither of them had liked being stuck in a marriage that they hadn’t chosen. “What do you think about New Jersey?”

“I don’t know much about it,” Dick began.

But Nixon cut him off. “No, I mean, you could come to New Jersey. There’s a company there, in Nixon, New Jersey, called Nixon Nitration Works.”

Dick broke into a grin and shook his head. “Sounds picturesque,” he teased.

“Yeah. Oddly enough, I know the owners.” Nixon started snickering as Dick did the same. He went on. “Yeah, and they’re gonna expect me to make something of myself. Thought, you know, maybe we could drag you with us.”

After a long pause, Dick looked at him. “Are you offering me a job?”

Nixon snorted. He tossed the stick he’d peeled off into the trees. Turning on his well practiced business attitude, he shrugged. “We’ll see how you do in your interview. But you know, a man of your qualifications, I think we’d probably scrape something up commensurate with your current salary level.”

“Yeah.” Dick nodded. He looked away, but then turned back. “I’ll think about it. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah. Just think about it.” Then he smirked. “We can take over the business. Get rid of my father.”

Dick broke into a laugh. Shaking his head, he stood up. “I didn’t say I’d sign up for a coup.”

As Dick stood and went to get in the water, Nixon just snickered to himself. He grabbed the accordion folder from the stones. Flipping it open, he started to dig through it. There were plenty of images of Easy, both the enlisted and the officers. A photo from Mackall caught his eye as it was the first one featuring Harry. And soon he’d found Moose, too.

He couldn’t help but laugh at a photo of Guarnere and Toye posing with Luz, Muck, Penkala, and Malarkey. As usual, they seemed to be up to no good. A photo from what looked to be Bastogne, given all the snow, featured Malarkey and Muck posing almost like comic book heroes. He had half a mind to pocket the photo for Alice, because she’d either keep it or make sure it got Muck’s girlfriend Faye.

The photographer had caught an even more recent one, from Berchtesgaden by the look of it, of Docs Roe and Spina in a couple of cafe chairs, smiling with champagne bottles in hand. They looked happier than he remembered them being since the war had started. But he never found any sign of Alice. If someone had learned about 2nd Battalion just from the photos, it would be like she’d never existed.

With the sound of Dick diving into the water, Nixon just sighed. He placed the photographs back inside the folder. No one would never really know what it was like, not really. Forget about Alice missing, he knew that even just explaining the war would be impossible to those who hadn’t experienced it. Selfishly, Nixon hoped that Dick would accept his job offer. He knew he’d be able to get it for him. And having someone else nearby who could understand what they’d gone through once they got to the states, well, maybe that could help them all.

He struggled up from the ground. Folder in hand, Nixon moved down the path towards the dock. With a tiny smile, he went to the end. How many times over the past two and half months had he sat there with Alice or Dick? He didn’t know. He’d never gotten into the water though. For a brief moment, he considered it.

Then the less impulsive part of his brain won out. While Dick went off on his swimming adventure, Nix turned back to the photos. For nearly half an hour he rummaged through them, taking time to just look at the faces of the men he’d met, befriended, and in some cases, lost. As Dick slowly came back, he turned his way.

“Towel!” Dick begged. “Towel, towel, towel.”

Nixon snickered at him. But he grabbed the towel on the dock beside him and tossed it his way. Then he turned the photograph he’d been looking at towards Dick. “Look at these two kids.” He shook his head as he thought about the fresh faced Toccoa versions of himself and Dick Winters. “What the hell happened to them?”

“New Jersey, huh?”

“Yeah.” Nixon set the photo down. With a nod, he continued, “Think about it.”

But Dick grinned. “Yeah, I am. Are you awake yet?”

“Awake? Time to go to bed.” Nixon scoffed.

But he hauled himself to his feet. In a moment of impulse, he moved to the edge of the dock. Why hadn’t he jumped in yet? He didn’t have an answer. So that’s what he did.

When he resurfaced, Dick was staring at him, cracking up. “I cannot believe Alice is marrying you.”

Nixon, sputtering the water out of his mouth, weighed down by his gear, just scoffed. He moved back towards the shore. To be honest, he couldn’t believe it either. But he certainly wasn’t going to complain.


	50. Chapter 50

**August 6, 1945**

Alice guessed they didn’t know she was standing at the edge of the lake, beneath the trees. Many of the enlisted men had been given the day off, and Tab had suggested they go down to the water. Her smile never died as she watched Tab, George, Lieb, Alley, More, Babe, Garcia, Hashey, Perconte, and Spina splashing around in the lake. They were loud. Not that it surprised her.

Gene sat on the dock, watching them with a smile. Johnny and Bull were heckling the others from the side of the lake. They threw rocks out, and she couldn’t decide if they were trying to hit the men, or trying to skip the stones.

When she’d walked down to swim, she hadn’t expected the spectacle she found. But she couldn’t complain. At least they were having fun. Still, the fact that they’d taken over her favorite swimming spot was slightly annoying, especially considering she had gotten into clothes for a swim already. Torn between joining them, and walking further along the lake to a quieter spot, she hesitated.

On the one hand, she saw no issue swimming with the guys. She’d lived with them for three years. It was more that she didn’t want to interrupt their fun. They had a right to their own brand of craziness without her around. But on the other, the dock was the closest and least secluded area around the lake, and the spot thus felt safer than anywhere deeper into the woods.

In the end, the decision was made for her as Talbert caught sight of her through the trees. He stood up in the water and grinned. “Enjoying the view, Alice?”

Had she not lived with them in close quarters for three years, she’d have blushed at the insinuation. But as they all turned her way she just shook her head. She wasn’t blind; most of them were shirtless and they looked damn good. But she rolled her eyes and moved down the path to where it finally joined up with the dock.

“You all seem to be having fun,” she commented, moving onto the dock. With a smile, she looked out where More, Alley, and Liebgott had started racing each other. Then she turned back to the men closer. “Enjoying a day without training?”

“Yeah, about time, right,” joked Babe.

She settled down on the dock next to Gene. The warm stone warmed her. George and Perco were arguing over something, Les and Tony making a scene further down. But Talbert, Babe, and Spina just hovered closer to the dock.

She glanced at them. “How’s the water?”

“You getting in?” Spina asked.

“Depends on the water!”

Alice didn’t notice that George and Perco had moved over on her right. So when a splash hit her in the face she shrieked. The entire group of men started downright cackling. All except Gene, who looked almost as irritated as she did. Alice noticed the water dripping from the side of his face as well.

“How’s the water?” George asked.

She narrowed her eyes. Standing up, Alice set her towel down and took off her boots. Her silence made those closer to her quiet down, except for George who kept giggling. From the side, Johnny heckled George, saying he was in for trouble.

“Gene,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let anyone take my towel.”

He chuckled. Wasting no more time, Alice leapt into the water. Even at midday in the warmth of the sun, the water still had a chill. She shivered briefly before sending a large splash straight at George’s head. 

“She got you pretty good, George.”

Alice froze. In fact, they all froze. She whipped around to find the source of the voice. She recognized it. They all recognized it. With a grin, she found him: light blonde hair, blue eyes, and a million dollar smile.

“No fucking way!” George shouted.

She almost squealed. “Buck!” 

Alice totally forgot about the fight with George. Even as the others turned to see what the commotion was, she scrambled to the dock and pushed herself up. She couldn’t stop smiling. He grabbed her arm and hoisted her the rest of the way up the tall dock. 

She grabbed her towel and tried to dry off a bit as the others moved closer in the water. George was still shocked. After a moment, he had pushed himself to the dock as well. Alice held out her arm. 

When he took it, she pulled him up and then dropped him. The splash when he fell back into the water was large enough that it got all over Talbert next to him. Alice cackled when he came back up in the water. “That’s what you get.”

Buck started laughing at George, and Talbert next to him. “That was a good one.”

“Damn right it was,” she agreed. As George hauled himself off, soaked from top to bottom, she turned back to Buck. “So what the fuck are you doing here!”

“Heard Speirs was in charge, and had to see that for myself,” he joked. With a shake of his head, he pointed out over the lake. “You guys are enjoying yourselves though.”

With the towel around her shoulders, she laughed. “Yeah, it’s nice, right?”

The other guys had reached the dock, so Alice stepped back a bit. She let them swarm Buck. As she moved towards the back of the dock, drying off a bit more and putting her boots on, she felt her throat clench. Watching the remaining Easy boys she was close to mob Buck, someone who returned to them that they never expected to see, moved her to tears. So many were missing: Guarnere, Toye, Muck,Gordon, Penkala, Hoobler, Grant, and Malarkey. Not to mention all the other men she’d known and lost.

After a few minutes of standing at the back, watching them, Alice sighed and smiled again. She pulled the towel closer. Her hair had started growing out again, so she threw it into a quick braid with a rubber band. 

The walk to the Hotel Zell took about twenty minutes. The solitude was nice, even if her swim had been decidedly short. Barely more than a jump into the water, really. But she wanted to let the men have their time with Buck. She’d see him later. And honestly, Alice needed to process seeing him again.

As she walked, Alice felt all sorts of emotions crashing down on her. They were like memories, but feelings, not images. Despair, agony, fury, hatred coursed through her. She could see Bill’s face as he struggled to hide the pain. She remembered George and Malarkey’s stunned expressions after Skip and Alex’s deaths. So much of Bastogne that she had fought to stuff down, away, flooded back.

She could feel herself shaking. The desire to physically run away from the scene down on the dock increased even as she did so. She’d seen a ghost. Her heart raced. Her palms sweated, and she tried to wipe them on her towel as best she could. A cold heat washed over her. All she wanted was a cigarette.

When she entered the hotel, Lieutenant Shames nodded to her. She nodded back. Alice took the stairs as fast as she could until at last she stood in her bedroom, dripping just a little, staring at her own face in the mirror. 

She looked a mess. A nearly faded scar ran across her cheekbone, white against her already pale skin. She’d gotten that on D-Day. The bullet wound from Eindhoven indented slightly in her left arm, lighter in coloration than the pinker skin around it. Her wet hair, even in the braid, looked less healthy than she remembered it being as a child.

With a sigh, she stripped out of her wet shirt and shorts and stepped into the tub to shower. The lukewarm water made her feel a bit better. It was almost like washing away the emotions, the pain, the memories along with the dirt and grime on her skin and hair. And when she finally pulled on clean clothes, the weight on her chest had lessened.

Alice spent a few minutes smoking a cigarette at the window. It was nearly 1200 hours already. Lunch would be soon, and then she was sure she’d have a briefing or two. Once she finished smoking, Alice grabbed her jacket and left. When she reached the lobby, Nixon flagged her down.

“There you are.” 

He shook his head as she noticed him. There was no smile, just genuine concern. Alice frowned. What did he need her for? She moved to him quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“The Allies dropped a nuclear weapon on Japan.”

Alice paused. Her mouth dropped a bit. “They did? Where? Casualties?”

“A target called Hiroshima. Estimated to be about 70,000 right now.” With a sigh, he shook his head. “I saw some of the overheads. It’s insane.”

Her breath caught. 70,000 people. “Are they going to surrender?”

“No word yet,” he admitted. “But Sink said he’d keep us all updated as more information is sent to us. The President is set to make an official announcement by tomorrow.”  
She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. If the United States had that sort of fire power, the Japanese had to surrender. The American death tolls in the Pacific had been exceedingly high in the past year. They would do anything to win, and to do it quickly.

As they stood in contemplative silence, Nixon sipping at his flask, Dick interrupted them. He had a small smile on his face. “Did you see Buck?”

Nixon removed his flask from his lips. “Buck? As in Buck Compton?”

“Yeah, he was down at the lake,” Alice said, forcing a laugh. She gestured out the doors. “He surprised all the boys.”

“Buck is back?” asked Nixon.

Dick chuckled. “Yeah, he came to visit. The doctors said he’d be fine for light duty, so he’s here for awhile. You must’ve missed him in your briefings.”

Even as he was speaking, Buck walked in chatting with Harry. They were both smiling and laughing. Catching sight of Buck, Nixon started laughing. “Jesus Christ, didn’t expect to see you in Austria, Buck!”

“You guys are living soft,” Buck chirped back. But he grabbed Nixon in a quick hug. “Goddamn, Austria’s a dream.”

“Yeah, it’s got a good view,” Nixon said. He snuck a pointed glance at Alice. “Company’s not bad either.”

While Harry suppressed a smirk, Dick just gave a tiny sigh at the teasing. He turned to Nixon and then to Buck. “How long are you here for?”

“Couple weeks, probably,” he said. “Depends. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

Alice started laughing. “Damnit, Buck. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, we certainly are,” Harry agreed.

She forced down the fear that had been creeping back in. Letting herself just listen to the men banter, she calmed down. This was Buck. This wasn’t a ghost, this was a great man and a good friend who had beyond hope come back to see them again. She wanted to enjoy it as much as she could. And so she smiled. She listened, and she enjoyed their banter, and she tried to remind herself that things would end soon. They had to end. So she needed to enjoy what was left.


	51. Chapter 51

**August 14, 1945**

“Listen, Alice, if you’re gonna live in America, you gotta know baseball.”

Alice watched George toss the baseball in his hand straight into the air and catch it in the glove in his other hand. He’d been talking her ear off all about it since they’d walked down to the airfield that morning. It wasn’t that she’d never tossed one around with them, but she’d never actually played. 

“George, why do I need to know,” she argued, again. They’d finally reached the diamonds down in the airfields. A dozen men from Easy already meandered about, waiting to start the game. She shook her head. “I won’t ever be playing it!”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well, it’s baseball.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not playing,” she insisted. “I’ll toss a ball around while you guys warm up though.”

It seemed to be good enough for him, because he stopped pestering her. He shouted for the others. Bull and Johnny were already throwing a baseball to each other. Further down the field, Babe, Lieb, and Spina were doing the same. Others moved here and there, stretching or chatting. 

Before long, George jogged back over with another glove for her. It was too big, as usual, but she didn’t complain. Instead she just shook her head with a smile. He grinned back at her.

“Come on. Ready?”

She sighed but lifted her glove up. Across from her, George wound up and threw it. It landed with a thud in her glove. She mimicked him. Before long they fell into a rhythm.

The baseball throwing was mindless. Alice loved it. She didn’t have to think of really anything but tracking the ball through the air until it hit her gloved hand. Then she just had to aim it. Back and forth they went, neither worse than the other. When someone called together Easy Company for the start of the game, she just mock bowed to George.

“That’s my cue!” she shouted over to him. As he shook his head and scoffed, Alice jogged up to him and handed the glove over. “So, who’s the smart money on this game?”

George snorted. “I’ll let you know when we pick teams.”

Laughing, Alice left George to join Easy on and around the pitcher’s mound. She crossed the outfield over to where she found Ron had pulled up. Nearby, it looked like Harry and Lip had just finished the run they’d taken that morning. Both were panting and downing their canteens. 

“Not playing?” Alice teased Ron. She didn’t expect any different, as he never engaged in the sports with the men, but watching him roll his eyes was worth it. “I’m sure you’d be good.”

Ron snickered. He moved a bit to the side against the truck to give her space. “Baseball’s alright. I prefer hockey.”

“Really?” She looked at him in surprise. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“Boston has a team. After we came to the states, I started going to their games. It’s a good sport,” he explained. “Even learned how to play.”

Alice smiled. “That’s fun. I never really paid attention to sports, except the Olympics. But football is my favorite. European football,” she added. “The real football.”

He cracked a smile. Pulling out a cigarette, Ron popped one in his mouth. Then he offered her the pack. She took one.

“Thanks.”

He nodded. “I noticed you’ve been smoking less,” he added.

“Yeah. You can blame Gene,” she said. “He’s been wanting me to cut back since we left Bastogne. Finally decided to do it.”

The men had started forming teams. Johnny and Gene were team captains. They ended up divided fairly evenly, though Alice silently picked Johnny’s team to win. As they all got together and decided on positions, she just smiled.

Once the game really started, a crowd formed. A game being played by Easy’s replacements had ended in the field over, and they walked over to watch the veterans. It didn’t take long for the heckling and insults to start. 

Poor Johnny found himself at the mercy of “Peewee” taunts. They didn’t end. Even Perco, who was on Johnny’s team, joined in. He was never one to pass up heckling Johnny. Alice eventually hauled herself up onto the hood of the jeep, Ron leaning against it and watching the game. She clapped along with each play made.

She cracked up when Garcia, running between bases, push George off the one he tried to get to. But George was having none of it. He just laughed and pushed Garcia right back. Lieb called him out.

Alice couldn’t stop laughing as they started making fun of Perconte next. She laughed so hard that she decided to just lay back across the hood of the jeep to try to calm down. Ron watched her in amusement before turning back to the game.

When she heard Dick a few moments later, Alice still hadn’t gotten control of her fit of giggles. But as Ron shouted for Easy, she rolled over and back up. Dick and Nixon stood in their dress uniforms like Ron. She grinned. Hopping off the jeep, Alice went to stand next to them. The warm sun heated her mostly bare shoulders. Zell am See in the summer was wonderful.

Once the men had gathered around, leaving their game behind for the moment, Dick started up again. “Fast man would’a had it Perco,” he teased. Perco almost hid his face while George just shoved him straight into Bull. But they stayed mostly quiet, and Dick continued, “Listen up. We’ve got some news.”

Alice stood next to Ron, hands on her hips. Behind Dick, at the jeep she’d just vacated, Nix leaned comfortably. He took off his sunglasses. Alice caught his eye and smiled, before turning back to Dick.

“This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese. The war’s over.”

Silence fell. Alice felt like she’d been punched. The war was over. She’d hoped it would come soon, after the Allies dropped the second atomic bomb. But the words hit her hard. The men around her just stared at Dick, no one sure how to react.

The war was over. They were going home. They would all be going home.

Her heart stopped. Conflicting emotions crashed into her. Elation, relief, but also regret. Not only regret for those they’d lost, who would never see home, the men who had given their lives and lay buried beneath the ground in foreign nations, but also regret that everything was about to change. Her normal would no longer be normal.

But then Nixon, beyond Dick, caught her eye. And he smiled. When he smiled, she couldn’t help but grin right back. And with that small permission to celebrate the moment, she turned to her right and grabbed Gene into a hug. It was like the dam broke.

They started laughing. Someone shouted for them to continue the game. And as they went to do so, they just smiled, and laughed, and a few had tears in their eyes. But Alice just stayed where she stood. 

The war was over. They were going home. All of them, no matter how many points, were going home.

She hugged Harry, and then Lipton, and Dick, and even Ron. They were going home. They had survived. When Nixon finally walked over, she grabbed him in a hug too. He had a small smile, cocky like usual. But when she grabbed him, he dropped the teasing. Alice buried her face in his shoulder and just tried not to cry. Neither of them said anything. They just stood there, together, finally sure they were going to live.

Alice stopped shaking after a minute or so. She broke apart from him and just grinned. Then she laughed. “We won.”

Nixon didn’t have any words. He just laughed too, and put his sunglasses back on. Harry, Dick, Ron, and Lipton were chatting nearby, but the enlisted, too excited to go back to the baseball game, had started running across the airfield. She saw George running from Perco, laughing his head off. Bull went after someone too. 

“I think I need a drink,” she joked. Alice turned back to Nixon and together they rejoined the other officers. “So, my guess is there’s going to be a party tonight?”

Dick started chuckling. “Sink’s already planning it.”

“Good.”

The six of them walked across the field at a more leisurely pace than the enlisted. They saw no need to rush. The various emotions, at least for Alice, still vied for control. Instead she just walked beside Nixon and Ron. She focused on her breathing. It was done. She was done.

By the time they got back to the Hotel Zell, it was nearly dinner. Party preparations were in full swing. Nixon offered up some of his stash from V-E Day, and enlisted ran to and fro with platters, glasses, and other essentials. Alice still didn’t know what to do. Standing in her room, the others having retreated to their own, she just took a long, deep breath.

She wished she had a way to talk to her sister, and her brothers, and her parents. She wanted to tell them that they’d won. No one would suffer in the camps, no one would have to listen to the Nazis cheering executions. They would be free. And though she knew they were dead, somehow the fact that they’d won eased the pain of their passing. She hoped Skip and Alex would somehow know that they’d not died for nothing.

None of it had been for nothing. They’d won. The Allies had won, and the survivors would get to go home at last.

It had been more than three years since she’d taken the train from New York City to Camp Toccoa. More than a year since they’d jumped through a barrage of explosions and raging flames into war torn Normandy. It had been more than four years since she’d left Paris, five since she’d joined the Resistance, and eleven since she left Hamburg.

She moved to the window. The sunlight had started fading. And yet even as the day waned, she couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty. The blue lake, the towering mountains, the rustling trees, it looked almost like a painting. 

With a small smile, Alice turned away from the window. She went to the door where a knock had distracted her. Nixon leaning against her door frame didn’t surprise her in the least. With a small laugh, she opened it further so he could come in.

“Did Sink appreciate your donation to the liquor stash,” she teased.

He just snickered behind his flask. “Yeah. That’s why he keeps me around.”

“Well, whatever his reasons, I’m glad he does,” she said. Her smile wouldn’t fade as she leaned against the dresser along the wall. Across from her, Nixon sat on her bed. She chuckled again. Her words faltered as emotion overtook her, “It’s over, Nix.”

“Yeah. Time to go home,” he said. “You ready?”

She choked back some tears. But she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I think I am. I think it’s about time.”

Smiling, he stood up and pulled her into another hug. As her head rested beneath his chin, Nixon closed his eyes. She smelled like roses. With a sigh, he added, “My family’s a handful. Are you sure you want to deal with that?”

Alice didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

They’d won. The war was over. They would all be going home. Alice would be going home.


	52. Chapter 52

**October 8, 1945**

Everything had passed in a whirlwind after V-J Day. The world had rejoiced, lauding the triumphs of the men in the Pacific and in Europe. For Easy Company, though, it had been a whirlwind of emotions as much as activity.

The company started breaking up almost immediately. Slowly but surely, they ended up in England, though. The officers went together, arriving in early October along with a group of the enlisted from Toccoa. Many of them had been discharged, or their discharges were pending. They just needed a ship to take them home.

On the night of the 8th, the remaining members of Easy had decided to get together in a pub. Most of the last few enlisted would be leaving on a ship tomorrow, back home to New York. The officers would be going soon after.

As Nix sat at the desk in the hotel room he’d taken over with Alice, he sighed. She was still asleep behind him, covered by a white comforter and out like a light. He could see the sheets moving up and down with each slow, even breath she took. It calmed him down. He watched her for a bit, how absolutely peaceful she looked. It distracted him from the reason for his anxiety: the letters sitting on his desk.

He swiveled back around. One definitely came from Blanche. He knew her handwriting immediately; absolutely impeccable script. The other came from his father by the looks of it. Script also, but more scratchy, a bit rough probably from alcohol. Nix had worked on toning back the drinking, at least a bit, since V-E Day. Every time he thought about drinking away all his sorrows, he thought of his father, and then Alice, and knew he wouldn’t do that to her.

Nix grabbed the one from his father first. A mixture of anger and anxiety filled him, causing his muscles to tense. An overwhelming desire to take a drink took over. But at the shaking cursive from his father, he resisted.

Taking his pocket knife out, he cut open the letter. He took care to remove the couple of pages. He set the knife down. Nix flipped up the front of the letter and began to read.

Most of what his father said he’d expected. A lot about disgracing the family with his divorce, deserving to be cut off, the betrayal of falling in love with someone else. He ranted about Alice being German, their enemies. Nix would’ve been furious over that if he hadn’t found it so incredibly stupid, and expected. Stanhope went on about still being expected to carry on the family business, about how he’d not stand for this ‘broad’ keeping him from his duties as a Nixon. He included quite a bit of profanity, a slur or two, and ended with a threat to cut Nix off if he didn’t come home and start working at the business.

Nix shook his head and placed the letter back in the envelope. It had been everything he’d expected, nothing more and nothing less. After a few moments of stewing in growing anger, he turned to Blanche’s letter. This one he cared much more about.

_Dear Lew,_

_I’m glad to hear from you. We were all very happy when the Japanese surrendered, if only because it meant you were coming home. A lot has happened since I last got word to you, but I suppose I should respond to your news first._

_I must admit, I’m surprised to hear about this girl. Everything you said about her is strange. The fact that you served with her alone, I find odd. But then, she also sounds like someone I should very much like to meet, not least of all because you fell in love with her._

_Mom took your news better than I expected, to be honest. I think she’s gotten so tired of you being unhappy. We all knew it. I don’t blame Katherine. She wasn’t happy either. And I suppose that by asking for the divorce, she allowed you to fall in love for real this time. We owe her that much. Mom was quite surprised of course. I think she was more surprised about who you fell in love with than the fact that you fell in love at all, though. I think she was surprised that someone like Alice even exists!_

_I’ll be honest, as soon as you described her to me, I knew you’d have fallen for her. You talk about her like she’s the sun. Smart, kind, funny, puts up with you. I laughed a little there, just so you know. It made me smile to know she helped you think of ways to write to me, to cheer me up a bit. I assure you I’m fine, though, as always._

_Father, on the other hand, went off on one of his tirades. He called mother, completely drunk. Screamed at her over the telephone. Said all sorts of horrible things. I hate him, Lew. I hate him so much! I hope he drinks too much one of these days and dies from it._

_Well, needless to say, Mom found his reaction to be the last straw. She said if you’re happy, she’ll try to accept your choice. But Father threatened to have you cut out of the family. He said you deserved everything coming for you, whatever he meant by that. So Mom told him she was done._

_She filed for divorce, Lew, and he accepted. She’s leaving him at last. Whatever money she gets out of the divorce, she said she’s leaving to us because the Lord knows Stanhope Nixon won’t leave much to his own children. I swear those are her words, not mine. But you know she’s right._

_That being said, you’re still expected to work at the business. But after Father said he’d rather eat a pig’s foot than come meet you and your ‘whore bride’ on the 26th, she insisted we come. So that’s good news! I can’t wait to see you, Lew. I’ve missed you so much. And I want to see this Alice girl myself. Anyone who could keep you interested enough to make you fall in love is a girl I’d like to meet. Something tells me I’m going to like her._

_I’m running out of room, now, Lew. I miss you. I miss you so much. Stay safe in your last weeks in Europe. I try to remember what it was like when we were growing up and traveled to London. Sometimes I try to imagine myself there with you, the two of us messing with my camera, terrorizing the birds. Makes me smile._

_I’ll see you on the 26th, Lew. I love you._

_Blanche_

He couldn’t help but smile at her signature. She’d added a small heart next to the E. He had a lot to process though. A huge sense of relief flooded him, though, as he thought about her news. Their mom had secured a divorce, she and Blanche would meet them in New York, it was almost too good to be true. She sounded normal enough in the letter, too.

With a sigh, he slipped it back into its envelope. Overall, good news, he decided. If their Father didn’t show up on the docks in New York, all the better. The last he needed was for Alice to get screamed at on day one. He knew that she’d been bracing herself for it ever since he’d drafted up letters to his three family members, but all the better if it never happened.

The bed shifted behind him. Turning in the chair, he smirked as Alice blinked against the light of the sun that streamed through the windows. She grimaced, and muttered, “Since when do I sleep later than you.”

Nix couldn’t help but laugh. “Since you started trying to compete with me in drinks.”

“Oh yeah,” she muttered again. “Well. I must be doing something right, because I don’t feel hungover.”

Getting up from the desk, he walked back over to the bed. He snickered at her as she rolled her shoulders and neck. The tank top she wore came from the paratroopers. Alice had insisted she preferred it to a nightgown after wearing it nonstop for bed for three years. And he had to admit, he wasn’t sure anything else would’ve looked right on her. Not yet, anyways. His eyes fell on the almost invisible scar on her cheek; the only way to notice it was to know it existed already. To him it was a terrible, beautiful, unique reminder of D-Day.

“Nix you’re staring,” she teased. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “11:45.”

“Great, then I can sleep another six hours before we go to the bar,” she said, grinning. With all the drama she could muster, Alice let herself fall back against the pillows. After a moment with her eyes closed, she looked at him again. He sat smirking, laughing under his breath at her. So she shrugged. “You can either join me, or get the hell off this bed so I can sleep.”

“You’re in a terrible mood,” he teased. But he wasted no more time. He was already just in shorts and the paratrooper shirt, so he eased himself back next to her and shut his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She snorted, propping herself up on her arm to face him. She smirked. “Well, I’m pretty sure it started in Toccoa. You wrote me a letter. That was a good step towards deserving me. Then in Fort Benning you gave me wine and let me hit you with a snowball. Then I think it was Mackall where you told me I could come to you after Operation Gomorrah,” she said. Alice continued on, point out moments where he’d been there for her. “Then on the Samaria, you protected me when I wanted everything but that,” she said quietly.

Nix fell silent. He shook his head. “I meant why did I deserve your snark this morning-”

“Shut up.” She shot him a tiny smile. Continuing on, she mentioned their time in Aldbourne, and in Normandy, and all the way through Holland to Bastogne. She mentioned Sturzelberg, where his trust in her had moved her tears, and Bavaria, where she’d needed more from him than she’d ever needed from anyone. And then she told him everything he’d done in Austria to remind her that she may have been a mess, but not broken. “So the better question,” she added, “is what the hell made you see all that in me before I saw it in myself, Nix.”

No words formed in his mind, let alone his speech. He just shook his head. “Honestly?” He cracked a smile. “I think it was when you punched me in the face.”

Alice cracked up. With tears in her eyes from laughing so hard, she lay flat against the pillows. After a minute or two, she finally got a hold of herself. But Nixon wished she hadn’t. When she laughed it blocked out all the thoughts of the blood and the death and the war that they’d gone through. It sounded like gold, which he couldn’t even explain to himself. Gold didn’t have a sound. But if it did, it would be her laughter.

With her eyes closed, she snuggled into the pillows and sheets next to him. He tried to do the same, to relax. He reminded himself that the news from Blanche had been positive, and that at least he’d be going to New Jersey with Alice, and soon Dick after he visited home. Then they’d be going to Harry and Kitty’s wedding in a couple months. He wasn’t going home alone with the memories. That was enough for him, he supposed. It would have to be enough.

When Alice woke up a second time, Nixon was asleep next to her. She slowly pushed back the bedsheets. The wood floor chilled her bare feet as she padded across the room. Her watch read 16:00 hours when she looked at it. Alice gaped. She’d not actually meant to sleep another six hours. They’d slept right through lunch and nearly to dinner, when they’d be meeting up with the remainder of Easy.

“Nix, get up,” she called. Alice changed into proper clothing including a simple red dress and heels. “Come on. We need to get moving.”

He started to wake up. Leaving him to claw himself to consciousness, Alice started on her hair and makeup. It took awhile, but eventually Nix was in dress uniform and she was in her finest available. Alice went to the door.

“Just a second,” he said. “You forgot something.”

Alice turned around. “What?” Her heart stopped. Nix was on one knee, ring box in hand. She laughed.

“Will you marry me. Officially, this time?”

She laughed again and nodded, choking back tears. “Yes! Je ne regrette rien!”

He nodded and stood back up. Her hands were shaking as he put the ring on her finger. The yellow-gold band and casing around the stone, and the diamond itself, shimmered back at her, Alice grinned and kissed him.

“You scared me to death,” she said, trying not to laugh. “I thought maybe I’d forgotten something important.”

He scoffed. “Come on.”

They took the stairs down to ground level. People bustled about on the streets and cars trudged by. The pub wasn’t far. By 1730 hours, they’d reached it. The door opened as another two men stepped out, and Alice waited for them to pass. Once inside, she and Nix looked around.

They found Dick, Harry, George, and Talbert chatting at a table. Harry and Talbert were snickering while George laughed his head off. When Dick caught sight of them at the door, he flagged them down. She saw a few more men of Easy in the bar as well, including Johnny and Gene at the bar getting drinks. It made her sad that Ron wasn’t there. He’d left the day before for Scotland. That goodbye had been the hardest she’d faced so far. But Alice knew tonight would be even harder.

“There they are,” Harry heckled. “Come on.”

They joined the table a moment later. Alice took a chair across from George, Nix to her side. Before long, Gene and Johnny had rejoined them with a group of beers. For a moment all she could do was sit and look at them. This would, perhaps, be one of the last times she’d be able to do so.

The men around her talked, and laughed, and joked. But the more they did so, the more and more Alice feared saying goodbye. Her heart beat faster. The time dragged on. They drank and they drank, and in the end she still hadn’t thought of what to say to the four enlisted at their table.

“Did Wild Bill like his forty dollars, Luz?” Harry asked, as the night drew to a close.

George choked on his beer. Wiping his mouth while the rest of the table laughed, he just shook his head. He glanced sheepishly at Nixon. But when Nixon just snickered along with the rest of the men at the table he shrugged. “I told him not to blow it all in one place. He said he was putting it towards something special.”

“That’s terrifying,” Johnny muttered.

There were some jokes made at Alice’s expense, and the ring was discussed. Everyone at the table had known about the engagement for quite a while, so no one was surprised. And yet, Alice still couldn’t think of much more to do than follow their banter. At midnight, Dick left them. Half an hour later, the enlisted made to do the same.

“It was an honor, sirs,” George said to Nix and Harry. “Thank you.”

The other three echoed his sentiments. Soon, Talbert, Johnny, George, and Gene had shaken hands with them, Alice stuffed down her tears as best she could. She got up from the table. “I’ll walk you four out,” she said, voice wavering.

Harry and Nix watched her go as she joined them leaving the bar. Her heart was pounding. She didn’t know what to say. The goodbyes to the other men had been painful, but these four she still couldn’t figure out quite what to say. All too soon they’d left the bar and stood out in the chilly evening.

“I don’t know-” She choked back a sob. Forcing it down, Alice shook her head.

George let out a short laugh. “We were talking. And uh, we had something we want to give you.”

She looked at him in confusion. As one, they straightened up, raised their right hands, and gave her a salute. Her mouth dropped. When they didn’t move, she raised her hand and saluted them back. Her heart beat so fast, Alice thought it was going to burst. At once, she burst into tears, and grabbed Johnny, the closest one to her, into a hug.

“Stay safe, okay?” he demanded of her.

She nodded. “Same to you. And say hello to your wife for me.”

Talbert was next. She hugged him as tight as she could, trying not to cry on his uniform. She didn’t want to let go. “I’m sorry you never got your dance,” she choked out.

But he just laughed. “Ah, that’s okay. Just dance a lot with Nixon.”

She laughed and nodded, pulling apart from him. Then she turned to Gene. She grabbed him, struggling as always against his height. But then she snapped at him through her tears. “You better fucking take care of yourself, Gene. Got it?”

“Prends aussi soin de toi,” he reminded her.

Alice just laughed. “Je vais. Je promets.”

When she pulled back from Gene, Alice couldn’t even bear to look at George. She covered her mouth, trying to stop from crying. It only took a minute for Tab, Johnny, and Gene to leave them for their hotel. She watched them go for a moment. Then she finally turned to George.

“George-”

“Jesus, you’re gonna make me cry,” he muttered. “At least you won’t have to put up with movie quotes, eh.”

Alice shook her head. She couldn’t keep the tears back. Instead she grabbed him in a hug, squeezing him as tight as she could. When he returned it, she just stayed there, sobbing.

“Rhode Island ain’t that far from New Jersey,” he told her. “And you’re gonna come meet Maria and Victoria and my parents, ok.”

“George, thank you for everything,” she said, choking on her tears. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, ‘We’ll always have Paris’,” he attempted to joke.

It did the trick. Alice started laughing through her tears, and pulled away from him. She nodded. “This is the only time I’m going to let you quote Casablanca without yelling at you.”

He nodded. With a smirk, he pointed back towards the door. “Your fiance might worry about you if you stay out here too long.”

Alice laughed again. “Yeah.” She fell quiet and looked at him again. Her brother in every single way but blood. “George, tell Maria about me, okay?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Cause she’s gonna need to know a bit about you before you meet her,” he replied.

With a nod, she calmed her breathing. Her tears had stopped. She didn’t want to leave. But she knew she needed to. Alice just told herself it wasn’t for forever. It was just for now. As she nodded and went to go back in, he offered her one last salute. She returned it. As George turned and walked away, hands in his pockets, she closed her eyes. Who knew going home would hurt so much?


	53. Chapter 53

**October 26, 1945**

The Statue of Liberty rose up before them. For a moment, Alice wished she’d been with the boys of Easy when they’d seen it the first time, pulling out of the harbor and heading into the Atlantic. As it was, she remembered the first she’d seen it. Alice had marveled at its size, its towering strength against the clouds. It had been cloudy the first day she’d arrived in America, and it was cloudy yet again.

She couldn’t help but smile as she thought about Bill going on and on about the Statue of Liberty in Paris. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him that it, too, had been built by the French. But as she looked at the torch in the hands of the woman in green, Alice decided it didn’t matter. The Statue of Liberty spoke to the freedom of the States as much as the craftsmanship of the French.

Nixon stood beside her on deck, Harry to her right and Dick to his left. They all stayed quiet. Dozens of other men in uniform stood on the deck as well. As the sun sank in the sky, twilight not far off, only the sounds of the waves breaking against the ship accompanied them. As they approached the harbor, passing Ellis Island, the horn of the ship rang out.

If she’d been asked three years ago where she thought she’d end up at the end of the war, Alice would’ve given a thousand answers except right back in New York City. She’d have said she would end up dead on the ground in Europe, or back in Paris, or living in the countryside of Germany. Alice might even have said England. The States had never crossed her mind.

Alice spared a glance at Harry. He looked worried, more worried than she remembered seeing him in a long time. His eyebrows were furrowed, his left hand gripping the rail of the deck. In his right hand, his canteen with almost certainly whiskey. To her left, Nixon seemed almost as anxious. He took a drink from his flask. She grabbed his hand. He physically relaxed at the touch, and glanced at her. She smiled.

When the ship docked at the harbor, a massive crowd met them. Hundreds of women and children and men stood waiting for their loved ones. As they got ready to leave, Alice turned to Harry. She wanted to say goodbye properly, before he went off with Kitty. Without even hesitating, she grabbed him into a hug.

“Thank you, for everything,” she whispered to him. 

He just smirked and hugged her back. “See you in two months.”

When she pulled away from him, Alice laughed and nodded. They had a wedding to attend. And while she couldn’t wait to meet Kitty, she was also looking to a couple months of adjustment herself. She knew Harry would need the same.

The jostling crowd pushed them all towards the exit. She grabbed onto Nix for dear life, it seemed like. An overwhelming fear of being touched by the crowd consumed her. Alice tried to block out the memories being conjured up. Focus on Nix, focus on Dick, focus on Harry.

At the top of the large plank walkway down, she paused in her step. A sea of faces waited for them at the bottom. Somewhere in there waited the mother of the man she’d fallen in love with, and the sister he so dearly adored. Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. But she followed Nix anyways.

The clouds had lifted some by the time she walked towards the ground. Light cut through them like beams from heaven. It took her breath away. She decided to take it as a good sign. Providence, perhaps, if such a thing existed.

When she hit the ground, Alice suddenly missed her Corcoran boots. She’d lived in them for three years, and now she felt oddly exposed in such a frantic mass of people who could step on her at any moment. 

Harry left them first. He stopped in the middle of the crowd. With a last nod and smile to Dick and Nixon, and a squeeze of her arm, he left them to the woman calling his name. Alice never caught sight of her, but she knew it was Kitty. And once Harry had gone, it didn’t take long for them to lose Dick. They’d not said goodbye, maybe more as an effort to remind each other that he’d be back in New Jersey within a month or two. But she hugged him first, and so did Nix.

And then it was just the two of them. The two of them against a sea of families, and in it, Nixon seemed to have an idea of where to go. Then all of a sudden he tensed.

“Lew?”

Alice looked past him. Two women were standing together, one with peppered hair, the other with rich brown curls down to her shoulders. Her eyes were the same deep brown as Nix. At the sight of Blanche and his mother, he paused. 

“Lew!” Blanche grinned, and pushed away from her mother to get to her brother. She stood taller than her, but not anywhere near Nix’s height. Blanche grabbed him in a hug, and after a stunned moment, Nix returned it. “I can’t believe you’re home!” 

Alice took the moment to just watch the siblings. This was the young woman she’d heard so much about for three years. A little bit sad, a little bit wounded, a little bit lonely, but with all the fire that came with being a Nixon. Alice decided then and there that she liked Blanche Nixon. She hoped the feeling would be mutual eventually.

By then, Mrs. Nixon had hurried over. She grabbed Nix in a hug as well, tears streaming down her face. Alice noticed that Nix looked to be tearing up, as well. She smiled. But suddenly she realized Blanche was watching her.

“Hi,” Alice ventured. “You must be Blanche.”

“And you must be Alice,” she replied. 

Her tone wasn’t mean, but it was sharp. For a moment, Alice felt like she was being interrogated by a mere glance. She stood taller. After a moment, she decided to say something. “I saw your photographs, back in your house. From Europe.” Alice smiled. “They’re beautiful. You really captured what it was like before the war. I was really impressed.”

For a moment, the younger woman didn’t respond. Alice wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. But then Blanche broke into a smile. “You think so? I didn’t quite know how to work a camera back then,” she added. 

“No, they’re wonderful. The one of the Arc de Triomphe, especially,” said Alice.

Blanche grinned and turned from Alice to her brother. He stood with Mrs. Nixon, watching them with a tiny smile. At Blanche’s enthusiasm he laughed. Then he turned to his mom. “Mom, this is Alice. Alice, this is my mother.”

Alice took a deep breath. She tried to push down any anxiety though, and focus instead on the woman before her. She tried to smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Nixon.”

“I won’t pretend to not be surprised,” she finally replied. But then she nodded and forced a small smile. “But, I suppose a lot will surprise me given what Lewis said about you.”

Alice forced another smile. “Good things, I hope?”

“Good, but strange, I must say,” Mrs. Nixon said. “Still, since Lewis already proposed, then we best start getting to know you.”

She supposed that was as good a reception as she could’ve hoped for. Blanche took up a spot to Nix’s left, and she the right. They followed Mrs. Nixon down the crowded boulevards until they reached quieter side streets. She held his hand. After a moment, Alice realized she’d have to start actually calling him Lewis, something she’d only done to tease him over the years. At the thought, she started chuckling. 

“What’s so funny,” he asked.

She tried to hide her smirk, but she couldn’t. “I don’t know, Lewis, you tell me.”

The snarky laugh that he let out told her he knew exactly what she was referring to. Alice shook her head. Eventually they reached a quiet side street where Mrs. Nixon told them they would be grabbing a bite to eat. They decide on pizza.

Tasting real pizza for the first time since going to war felt like an almost religious experience. Through most of the meal, Alice let Blanche and Mrs. Nixon interrogate their son. She held his hand under the table though, as she could see him getting more and more uncomfortable. In fact, the questions were hard enough to listen to. She looked at Blanche half way through the meal, though, and realized she’d caught on.

“Mom, they’re probably exhausted,” Blanche interrupted. “They’ve been on a ship for two weeks.”

Mrs. Nixon frowned, but nodded. “Very well. I suppose you’re right. I’ve just been so worried and I want to know what I can do.”

Nix didn’t respond at first. Turning from his mother, to Blanche, and then to Alice, he shrugged. Nixon forced a smile. Then it dropped. “Keep dad away from us?”

The snarky comment closed out dinner. Once they’d left the small diner, they caught a cab to Nixon, New Jersey, to the summer home they kept. Alice held her breath as she sat to the right of Nix in the backseat of the cab. Memories flooded back. She could feel her leg shaking and tried desperately to stop it. 

It looked the same when they pulled up as Alice remembered it from three years previous. Large, grand, mansion-like. She scooted out of the taxi cab, looking up at the structure. The next little while passed in a bit of a blur. They’d taken their suitcases upstairs. She found a room to herself. Nix took his on the end. In the silence, she felt herself crashing emotionally and physically.

After saying goodnight to the others, she changed and climbed into the bed. The mattress moulded to her body in a way army cots never had. With a tiny smile, she tried to settle.

But she couldn’t. Flashes of memories from the war, from her goodbyes to her brothers-in-arms, played in her mind. She was out of the warzone, but it had come with her. Some small part of it, at least. 

Hours later, she wasn’t at all surprised when the door squeaked open. A tiny bit of flight flooded in from the hallway. “Nix.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. 

“You’re mother’s not going to yell at us?” she ventured.

He started to laugh, under his breath and without much humor. But he walked inside and closed the door. “We withstood Dick Winters. I think we can withstand Doris Nixon.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she teased.

Once he’d crawled into the bed, he continued on. “I talked to her, actually,” he said. “She doesn’t get it. But, she said the house is ours if we want. It went to her in the divorce.”

Alice stared at him from where she sat against the headboard. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And Blanche wants to split time between here and San Francisco. She said it’s getting too noisy for her there.”

“Good.” Alice grinned. “I like her.”

With a laugh, he nodded. “Yeah, I thought you might.”

“We have a house, and a ring,” she said softly. 

Nix snorted. But he just grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do. I may need to wait for my dad to calm down though.”

“We’ve got plenty of time,” she assured him. “But do I have to start calling you Lewis, because I don’t know about that one. That may be a deal breaker.”

He started laughing and shook his head. “You’d marry an arrogant rich jerk from Yale, but not a Lewis?”

“I never said that,” she argued. Spinning on him, Alice smirked. “But I’m not going to stop calling you Nix.”

“That’s fine with me.”

She yawned. Scooting down further into the bed to actually sleep, she tried to make herself feel safe. Nix’s presence helped tremendously, and she started to drift off. Instead of a projection show of broken, bloodied bodies, she saw him. And that was enough for her. 


	54. Chapter 54

**December 9, 1956**

_Nixon, New Jersey, United States_

* * *

“Psst. Wake up, mommy.”

Alice groaned into her pillow. She tried to hide her face from whatever tried to disturb her, but small hands found their way onto her face anyways. One of them patted her cheek.

“Come on, mommy!” 

With a dramatic sigh, Alice opened her eyes. Brown eyes stared back at her. They were big in the little face of her younger daughter, full of the mischief she’d come to realize came from her husband’s side of the family. “Noëlle. What have I told you about waking me up when my door’s closed?”

“Not to do it, ‘less it’s an emergency.”

“So why are you in here?”

“It’s an emergency, mommy.”

Alice frowned but sat up in bed. Throwing the sheets off, she looked at her five year old daughter. The girl hardly looked frightened, which she would’ve expected from an emergency. To her right, Nix’s side of the bed was empty, and cold based on her hand. He must’ve been up for awhile. 

“Alright, ma vie, what’s the emergency?” She patted the bed and let Noë climb up. “Where’s Ettie?”

“She’s with Daddy. They’re making pancakes,” Noë explained. Her dark hair whipped around her face as she turned towards the door. “Daddy dropped a plate and it broke.”

It took every ounce of her strength not to roll her eyes. Of course he had. “Did Daddy send you to tell me?”

The grin on Noë’s face grew and she giggled. “No. He told me not to. But I wanted to.”

Alice couldn’t help but smile. Noëlle never settled. She’d expected the response. “Ok, ma vie. Pick out a dress for me and we can go get Daddy in trouble.”

The girl squealed with laughter as she scrambled down from the bed. Her feet pounded against the wood floor as she ran to find Alice a dress. Alice moved a bit more slowly.

“Here. This one’s pretty.” Noëlle laid a black winter dress on her bed and giggled again. “Are they really coming today!”

At her daughter’s excitement, Alice couldn’t help but grin along with her. “Yes.” She laughed as her daughter nodded with a grin. The dress pulled on easily, and soon she’d slipped her feet into shoes and turned to Noë. “Ready?”

They left the room side by side. Noë’s red jumper bounced a bit around her as she sped down the hall to the stairs. Once on the first floor, the girl sped towards the kitchen, leaving Alice to follow. When she walked in after her daughter, she found a disaster. Flour was all over the laminate countertops. The pastel blue cabinets had flour on them as well, some still half open.

  
But most alarming of all, the wallpaper on the far side of the room had a sugary-powder spot the size of a miniature donut. In the midst of all of it, Ettie, blonde hair frizzy from either labor or syrup, Alice did know, stood next to Nix. He at least had the decency to look sheepish as she glared at him. 

“Noë!” Ettie groaned. “You’re such a traitor!” But the younger girl just laughed, cackling as Ettie tried to wipe her hands on her apron. 

“Lewis Nixon,” Alice began. “What are you doing to this kitchen!”

“Cooking?” he ventured. “Ettie thought we should make pancakes-”

“Do not try to blame this on Bernadette,” Alice snapped. “Ettie, go get cleaned up please. It’s almost noon.”

She sighed, but nodded. On the way past her mother, she just shrugged. “Is Uncle Ron coming soon?”

“Yes. So go clean up!” Alice then turned to their other daughter. “Noë, go find something to do.”

“But-”

“Now.”

“Can I go skate?”

Alice sighed. “Not by yourself, you can’t. Once Ettie’s dressed, she can go out with you.”

Grumbling under her breath, Noë ran back down the hallway after her older sister. Confident they were out of the way, Alice turned back to Nix. He had started wiping the counters. A large pile of pancakes sat on a china plate, waiting to be eaten. 

“So, what’s with the powder stain,” she asked, joining him at the counter. 

He grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

“Well I know Ettie didn’t throw it, Nix.” At the look on his face, she couldn’t help but laugh. Alice grabbed a towel and got to work cleaning alongside him. “But I am surprised that you missed her.”

“Well my aim’s never been quite as good as yours,” he said, smirking.

“Hm, that’s true.” 

Before long, the kitchen was clean again. Just as they sat down at the table to eat the pancakes, Noëlle went rushing through the kitchen to the backdoor, dressed head to toe in winter clothes. Ettie followed with less enthusiasm, but no less bundled up. Noë loved to skate on the small pond in their backyard, but Alice refused to let her do it alone. That meant Ettie drew the short straw more often than not.

“These aren’t bad,” Alice admitted.

He grinned. “Yeah, I know. I can cook.”

“Do you know what time Ron and Harry were planning on showing up?”

“Ron said close to noon. He’s driving from his sister’s place in Boston. I don’t know about Harry and Kitty.”

They fell back into quiet, digging into their food. They only had about an hour until noon. It passed in relatively uneventful, with Noëlle coming in with Ettie just as the clock struck twelve. At the same time, a knock on the door pulled them out of their domestic peace.

Noëlle beat everyone to the door. After peeking through the window next to it, she grabbed the knob and swung it open. Her absolute favorite person in the entire world stood on the other side. “Uncle Ron!”

He smirked as she attached herself to his waist. “Hey kid.” Ron caught sight of Alice behind her in the hall. He shot her smirk and crouched down in front of Noëlle. “You’re not causing your mom trouble, are you?”

“Never!” she assured him.

“Good. You can cause your dad trouble though,” he told her, voice in a fake whisper. “He deserves it.”

Noë nodded vigorously. Standing up, Ron moved past her. “Christ, it’s cold,” he muttered, giving Alice a very quick hug. “Where’s your other one?”

“The kid or the husband?” she teased. “Ettie’s trying to find a notebook and I have no idea where Nix went.”

“Uncle Ron,” Noëlle interrupted. “Can you teach me hockey?”

He turned from Alice to the girl at his side. She looked up at him eagerly. A smile spread across Alice’s face. Why Noëlle had latched onto Ron as her favorite person, she could never quite figure out. Ettie had sent Ron drawings while he was in Korea, but Noë hadn’t been old enough. Once she’d reached the age, though, she’d insisted on sending them to Ron.

“Noë, girls don’t play hockey,” he pointed out.

“Well, mommy was a soldier and girls aren’t soldiers either.”

Alice couldn’t stop the sharp laugh that escaped her at her daughter’s words. Ron looked from Noëlle to Alice. All she could was shrug.

“You want to learn how to play hockey?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What team will you root for.”

Noë frowned. “What’s your team?”

He tried not to laugh. “They’re called the Bruins.”

“What’s a Bruin?”

“It’s a bear.”

She nodded. “I like the Bruins then.”

Alice laughed and pushed them both down the hall. “Come on. Noë, stop talking his ear off, please. Go find your sister.”

As she disappeared into the house, Ron turned back to her. But neither said any thing. There wasn’t much to say. Noë was Noë. Energetic, excited, headstrong, and eager to do anything she wasn’t supposed to do.

Finally, Nix made an appearance. He had his flask in his hand and smirked when he saw Ron. “There you are.”

“Your kid’s crazy just like you,” Ron told him.

He snorted. “Yeah. Sounds like her.”

Footsteps pounded down the floor. Two sets, one much faster than the other. In the end, after Noë rounded the corner, Ettie came into the kitchen as well. She grinned and said hello.

“You still drawing, Ettie?” he asked.

“Yes! Do you wanna see them?” 

Ettie grinned as Ron moved over towards her. She opened up the notebook she’d been searching for as he sipped at the glass of whiskey Nix had given to him. While they looked at her drawings, the doorbell rang. Nixon went to get it, leaving Alice tying up the skates that Noë had already grabbed. 

“Ron, Nix has a pair outside,” she told him. “If you are going to teach my daughter how to play hockey.”

“Well I can’t say no,” he told her. “She got around my one excuse.” Then he turned back to Ettie. They finished up going through her sketches as voices were heard down the hall.

Alice left Noë standing in her skates by the door and hurried down the hall. At the sight of Kitty and Harry, she beamed. “There you are!”

Kitty laughed and hurried over to her. She grabbed her in a hug. “Alice!” 

They nearly fell over, they hugged each other so hard. But in the end, Alice pulled away, and moved over to Harry. She grabbed him in a hug as well. “You two made good time.”

“Yeah, well, we had places to be,” Harry teased. Then he looked past the two women. “Is that Major Speirs I see?”

“Damn right, Welsh,” Ron said.

“Alright, everyone to the backyard,” Alice ordered. “There is not enough space in this hall.”

Nix just laughed. He’d expected it. She’d never liked small spaces with lots of people, not since he’d known her at least. Even their own house became too crowded quickly. He assured the adults through to the back where Noë already stood wobbling around on the concrete with her skates on. 

It didn’t take long for Harry and Kitty to be rushed by both Ettie and Noëlle, though she came more slowly thanks to the skate blades. It was cold outside, but not unbearably so. Nix started a small fire while Alice chatted a mile a minute with Kitty. Ron just followed Noë to the tiny pond fifty feet back. 

“I’m a good skater,” she told him.

He tried to suppress a laugh. But he had to admit that when she stepped on the ice, she did have decent form. The hockey stick Noë had come into possession of wasn’t as long as he’d want, but it would have to do. He stepped onto the ice and moved over towards her.

“Ready?”

“Always,” she said, smirking.

For about thirty minutes, Ron tried to teach Noë what he could about how to hold a stick, how to maneuver, and in the end, how to skate backwards. She wasn’t a natural, but she picked it up fairly quickly. He had to admit he was impressed. When he called it a day, she just panted and moved off the ice, straightening her dress as she did so.

As Ron undid his skates near the side of the house, Ettie came over. She smiled, her shoulder length blonde hair bobbing up and down the same way Alice’s did. Aside from the brown eyes, it always struck him how close to Alice Ettie looked.

“Can you tell me more about my mom in the war?” she asked. 

The forbidden question. As far as he could tell, he was one of the only people who would tell her about the war. She’d mentioned that Bill Guarnere would say some stuff in his letters if she asked him questions, but mostly it wasn’t discussed. None of them discussed the war, really. Not as long as they could avoid it.

Ron looked at her. “What do you want to know?”

Ettie just shrugged. Her brown eyes widened as she looked up at him. She closed her notebook. “I want to know everything.”


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we end.

**November 25, 2019**

_Amherst, New York, United States_

* * *

It wasn’t that Elle didn’t enjoy visiting her grandparents. But being dragged north to Buffalo for Thanksgiving every single year was starting to get old. She had homework over break, she had tests to study for. Midterms would be coming up soon. And she felt that as a seventeen year old, she had earned the right not to sit at the Kids’ Table. 

Hunter was nineteen. He got to sit with the adults. She was only a year off from being an adult anyways. So why did she have to sit with the little kids? Her feet dragged as she followed Hunter and her parents up the driveway from the street. The house was old, too. Not ancient, but the brown and white siding screamed vintage. And not in a cool way.

Elle clutched at the book her arms. Between her phone and the new novel, she’d hopefully be able to stay to herself during this crazy get together. She knew Aunt Noëlle and Uncle Bob would be there, and her Uncle John Paul and Aunt Olivia. Then of course Melanie would be bringing the kids. That meant the Kids’ Table. 

“Smile, Elle,” her mother ordered.

“I am!” she snapped.

With all the grace and poise she could muster, Elle waited at the door. Her dad had knocked. Now they waited. When it swung open a moment later, she found herself looking at her drop dead gorgeous cousin Melanie.

“Aunt Heather! Uncle Mike!” She grinned, moving away to let them in. With hugs for Elle’s parents, Melanie then turned to her and her brother. “Hey Hunter! Elle, you look nice!”

She brightened up a bit at her cousin’s compliment. Elle glanced down at herself. She’d put on a grey sweater dress and curled her dark hair so it bounced just below the shoulders. “Thanks, Melanie. You look good too, as usual.”

They walked inside. The dark wooden staircase rose up on the right, leading to the upstairs. The brown bear she’d remembered since childhood, definite vintage, sat in a tiny rocking chair in the hall. Elle smiled. Maybe Thanksgiving wasn’t so bad.

Screams from further in interrupted her pleasant thoughts. Hunter had gone off somewhere, probably to find Melanie’s husband. They got along well. But the screeching twins and their younger brother echoed through the entire building. Elle groaned.

Before long she found herself standing alone in the foyer. To her left, an antique pink glass and crystal chandelier hung over the large table that had been set up for the adults. The couches were pushed to the side to make room. After venturing into the kitchen and giving quick hugs to everyone as she was expected to do, Elle managed to sneak back out.

She found a cushy armchair that had been left alone. Her phone buzzed with activity, likely her group project chat. Wanting to avoid schoolwork as much as she could while she couldn’t do anything to help, she put her phone back in her lap. Instead she turned to the book she’d picked up from the store. 

“Interesting book.”

Elle looked up. Grandma Ettie had come into the family room. Her greying hair was short, permed. She stood fairly tall, about the same as Elle at five foot eight. Elle always thought she dressed well for her age. She smiled.

“Yeah, I picked it up a few days ago. Look interesting,” she said. Elle turned it around and showed her grandmother. 

“A Woman of No Importance. The Untold Story of the American Spy Who Helped Win World War II.’ Now that sounds like a good story,” Grandma Ettie told her. With a smile, she pulled over a wooden dining chair and eased herself into it. “What’s her name?”

“Virginia Hall. She had a wooden leg!” Elle said, breaking into a smile. “Can you believe that? She was a woman, and a spy for the Allies with a wooden leg. And she named it!”

Grandma Ettie smirked. “What’d she name it?”

“Cuthbert.”

“She sounds like my mom,” Grandma Ettie said. 

Elle looked at her in confusion. “Great Grandma Nixon? What do you mean?”

Another scream from the five year olds echoed through the halls. They both winced. Grandma Ettie looked at her closer. With a smirk, she heaved herself up from the chair. “Come here. I’ve got a job for you.”

Closing the book, she followed her grandmother to the stairs off the kitchen. While Melanie and her husband tried desperately to reign in their three children, and the other adults stayed out of the way, they just snuck down the stairs. 

The steps were wooden. Once they reached the bottom, Elle’s shoes sunk into the carpet squares hap-hasardly thrown about the concrete floor. The basement had never been finished, but it had plenty of light. On the left, an ironing board and some storage, and on the right, wooden shelves with old toys like Fisher Price. She remembered playing with them as a kid.

Grandma Ettie led her to the far side of the basement. Several wooden chests and a crate sat untouched, but not too dusty. Well cared for, Elle guessed. They looked old.

“We don’t talk about my mother much,” Grandma Ettie said. “Or my dad, either. But they both fought in World War Two.”

“What?” Elle stared at her. “But women didn’t fight.”

Grandma Ettie laughed. “You’re right. But she did.”

For a moment, Elle wondered if her Grandmother had gone insane. Women didn’t fight in the war. Some were nurses at field hospitals, plenty participated in non-combat roles. But they didn’t fight. But as her grandma opened one of the chests and then laid a key in her hands, Elle didn’t respond.

  
“Take a look. It’s quieter down here than up there anyways,” she joked.

Elle nodded. Watching her grandmother make her careful way back to the stairs, she paused. She looked at the key in her hands. Then Elle looked at the chests.

She placed her book and her phone on one of the carpet pieces. Grabbing a second one, Elle pulled it over to kneel on. When she looked into the chest, she frowned. 

The first thing she noticed was a stack of letters tied together by twine. They had faded a bit, the edges crumpled and the paper yellowed. Elle pulled them out and then grabbed three more stacks. She placed them on the ground. There were a pair of uniforms beneath the letters, brown. Two hats accompanied them. 

Elle pulled them out. She saw the medals on the breast of the jackets. On their uniforms she saw Lieutenant’s and Captain’s bars. The hats had a patch with a parachutist. Paratroopers. 

Her eyes widened. Elle placed the clothing in a gentle pile. Then she looked further in. A random assortment of other items sat inside. There were three green glass bottles of some kind of alcohol, if she had to guess. A cigarette pack, too. She found a few folders, and a necklace with a star of david. And in the bottom sat two thick journals.

Elle took out one of the folders. She sat back cross-legged, giving herself some room. Then she opened it. Inside, dozens of photographs of her great-grandparents with other men and women sat in black in white. A few were in color, where they looked older.

On the back of each, a date and a list of names. Bill And Fran Guarnere, Joe Toye, Babe Heffron, Dick Winters, Harry Welsh, Kitty Welsh, Pat Christenson, Carwood Lipton, George and Del Luz, Don Malarkey, Johnny Martin, Gene Roe, Ron Speirs, and a dozen more. Of the group, only Ron Speirs stood in uniform. But Elle began to realize they must’ve all been soldiers together.

Great Grandma Alice Nixon had been a soldier. How was that even possible? Elle placed the photos carefully into the folder and closed it. She set it to the side.

Pulling out the two journals, she carefully untied the leather strap from around one. Her eyes widened as occasionally, she found the writing to be French or German. But most of it was in English. It seemed to be a notebook of memories or nightmares, Elle couldn’t distinguish. Freezing winters, excruciatingly hot summers, running up mountains, artillery barrages. More names, too. Skip Muck. Alex Penkala. Donald Hoobler. Alton More. David Webster. With them were a few pictures.

Then, she found a list of names that shared their last names in common. Bernadette Klein. Robert Klein. Marc Klein. Helene Klein. Wilhelm Klein. Elsa Klein. No pictures accompanied these, but some sketches of a star-shaped flower, or a few words in German Elle couldn’t understand.

She put the notebook down. It felt wrong, almost. But then her eyes fell on the other notebook. Elle couldn’t resist.

Untying it, she opened to the first page. The writing here was all in English, most names with information beneath each. Elle didn’t recognize any of them; they were definitely not Americans. She recognized quite a few Russian surnames. Some looked Polish. But they were all women.

_“I need to speak to Genevieve and Juliette, see if they remember anyone else. Maybe get in touch with Simone again. Maybe Ron has contacts in the military still.”_

Ron Speirs? Elle continued to skim. A couple names stood out to her: Corrie ten Boom, Anne Frank. Then she came to another note that caught her eye.

_“Germaine is Virginia Hall? Double check sources. It would make sense though. I never knew the extent of her work. Need to cross-reference with any other Maquis survivors.”_

Maquis! Elle looked over at the book to her right about Virginia Hall. She’d not gotten far, but she’d done some googling about the Limping Lady before buying it. Elle looked at the pages, hoping to find a date. 1973.

Great Grandma Alice Nixon had been compiling a list of women from the war. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. She had names, dates, missions, accomplishments. Taking a deep breath, Elle closed the journal. She turned back to the files. There was still one in the bottom. She pulled it out.

Only two things sat inside. Detailed pencils sketches, it looked like. The first one had her great grandmother in the center, mountains behind, and to either side, a dozen men. They were all in uniform. Alice laughed in the picture. An arm from the man next to her, smoking a cigarette, draped over her shoulders. 

The other was similar. Alice stood in the center again, flanked by five other men in uniform. One to her left she recognized immediately as Great-Grandpa Lewis Nixon. To his other side, a man who stood even taller. On the other side of Alice stood three more, the one directly adjacent to her barely taller than Alice herself. All stood in uniform.

Her breath caught. That was proof. Right there, proof that her great-grandmother had served in the war. Maybe not a photo, but at least a drawing. Two, actually. Alice Nixon had been a paratrooper. 

Elle didn’t want to put the art away. But she did. Leaving her phone and book on the floor, she turned back to the journals. Elle didn’t hesitate a second time. Before long, she found herself immersed in the writings of this woman she’d never known. Alice Klein.

**F I N**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks. Or, that's it for the duology at least. I do plan on doing one-shots of post-war and during the war, of moments I or any of my readers feel they'd like to see. And there will be some post-war linear storytelling under the title "Only a Paper Moon" but I don't know when I'm going to start that. I think I'm going to take a little break.
> 
> Thank you, so so much, for coming along for this ride. I hope you enjoyed reading the two stories as much as I enjoyed writing them. Love you all!
> 
> Julianne


End file.
